


planet of love

by nielwoons



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (a recovery year by griffin mcelroy plays somewhere in the distance), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Candlenights, Complete, Gen, IPRE Crew | Starblaster Crew as Family, Insomnia, Introspection, Magnus Burnsides Needs a Hug, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, all canon ships are mentioned, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 133,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27355267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nielwoons/pseuds/nielwoons
Summary: when nature works as it should, natural disaster is supposed to be regenerative. new life springs up where destruction once took place. but rebirth isn't instantaneous. the world doesn't reset overnight — at least not anymore. there's time in between tragedy and growth.that's where magnus is right now.
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Carey Fangbattle/Killian, Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides & Carey Fangbattle, Magnus Burnsides & Everyone, Magnus Burnsides & Taako, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Julia Burnsides/Magnus Burnsides
Comments: 34
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hoooo boy.
> 
> this monster has become my covid coping mechanism, i think. i started this in july, apparently, but time is irrelevant this year, so it feels like i've been writing this for approximately a century and a half. if you can believe it, magnus isn't even my favorite character (but he is #2).
> 
> OVERALL TRIGGER WARNINGS: (if you need clarification on any of these, feel free to shoot me a dm @[magnusandjulia](https://www.twitter.com/magnusandjulia/) on twitter) a lot of mental health talk; poor coping mechanisms and a lot of bottling up; mentions (not in depth) of suicide & suicidal ideation; descriptions of hypervigilance, panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks, and other symptoms of ptsd; grief & mourning over canon character death.
> 
> a whole bunch of other notes can be found [here](https://pastebin.com/XJP456Mc). the tldr is that this is very long and i love it very much and i hope everyone else does too.

the world in the wake of the day of story and song is relaxed and good, until it isn’t. it’s late autumn when things start to settle, when he wakes in the middle of the night and can’t figure out why — there’s no noise that’s startled him awake, the latch on the front door is shut tight, the windows are closed, steven is bubbling happily away in the large, brightly lit tank that someone got for him. but by the time magnus has assured himself that there’s no threat and all is well, he’s too restless and awake to go back to sleep. so he makes himself a cup of some calming tea taako left here after a short vacation to the astral plane with kravitz, and he settles into the big armchair across from the aquarium and he watches steven bubble and swirl around until the sun rises and the birds start chirping in the big oak tree outside.

at that point, he sets aside his worries and starts his day. he puts aside the strange, restless night and writes it off as too much to eat at dinner or just an odd dream he can’t remember. it’s nothing, or at the very least it’s not enough of something to overly concern himself with.

except then it happens again the next night.

this time, he’s sure there must be some noise that woke him, the sound of an intruder. he prowls around the house, hyper aware of where he left railsplitter and the chance lance, though he keeps his hands empty of weapons for now. but his rogue training reveals no signs of anyone trying to pick the locks or pry open the windows, and none of the security spells carefully woven by taako and barry and lucretia have been tripped. his stone of farspeech is silent, and tuned as always to his private channel — and none of his family would wake him at this hour for anything less than an emergency.

the whole thing leaves him paranoid and uncomfortable, a prickling under his skin that he can’t get rid of. not even taako’s tea calms him this time, so he stalks around the house doing chores he’s been putting off, and then heads outside to chop wood for the winter store (railsplitter is a bit of overkill here, maybe, but it makes him feel better to have its familiar grip in his hands).

he’s sweaty and disgusting by the time the sun rises, but still no attack comes. the unease settles in his stomach for the rest of the day, waiting for it.

that night is worse. it takes hours to fall asleep, and it reminds him of the night after his final ipre exam, or the night before his wedding, except it’s harnessing all the anticipation and slowly churning it into nervous, anxious energy. it’s late into the night before he finally falls asleep, but it feels like only seconds later that he wakes like a thunderclap has burst between his ears.

he bolts upright, panting and frantic, chest heaving. a nightmare — it has to be. nothing else could do this. but still, just to be safe, he drops belly down to the floor and pulls the sword from its safe spot under the bed, and then takes to his watchful patrol around the house once more.

there is nothing. everything is just as he left it not two hours ago. he drops heavily into the armchair, the sword resting across his lap, and stares deep into steven’s tank like it will reveal answers like fisher’s did — but steven is quiet and content while his magically silenced filter churns away without a sound.

magnus sighs, and reaches down to carefully set the sword on the floor. “steven,” he mumbles. “what the hell is going on?”

steven doesn’t answer.

* * *

a week goes by, much the same. by the end of it, magnus is exhausted, and he catches himself falling asleep in the middle of the day, nodding off under the big oak outside midway through lunch or on the couch in the early evening while he reads letters from june and angus and a handful of other people.

but when night comes and he’s certain he’s tired enough to make it through to morning, he climbs into bed and the restlessness overtakes him until he gives in to exhaustion, only to bolt into wakefulness far too soon. by day 5, he’s accepted it, though he’s not particularly happy about it. he makes himself another cup of taako’s tea and sits down to write to merle about it and see if he has any advice, but he forgets about the letter by noon, and when he notices it again that night he can’t help feeling strangely and uncomfortably embarrassed by it. it’s not shameful, he knows, and his entire family would chastise him for thinking so, but they’ve all got so much on their plates right now. he can handle a little insomnia on his own.

on day 7, he goes down to the post office a ways into town to pick up his mail, and carey’s sent along a copy of the portrait they had done of the wedding party. he sits on the couch and smiles wistfully at the big grins, magically captured but natural on their faces. there’s a letter, too — she and killian have settled back in at the moon base just in time to help everyone move out. they were here a week ago — no, two, on their way back from honeymoon in goldcliff, where they gambled away most of their wedding gifts when they weren’t in bed, which is a fact that magnus thinks he maybe didn’t need to hear about someone he considers practically his sister.

he finishes reading as he’s stepping back into the house, and he’s still smiling as he latches the door behind him. he misses them both, bursting with energy and love. he remembers that feeling, but that’s not what he misses so much as the comfort of having people nearby that he trusts with his life. two weeks ago it was carey and killian, and the week before that it was taako and kravitz and angus and taako’s forgotten tea, and the week before that it was merle and the kids on the way back from their latest session, and before that—

it strikes him suddenly that it’s been a long time since his house was empty. maybe since before it was built, because merle came by to bless the foundations, and taako and kravitz and lup and barry did the basework of the security system, to which lucretia added her own magic when the twins and their lovers moved on, and carey and killian insisted on helping him build, as did a few stragglers still living in raven’s roost who remember his name from years ago (which surprises him, but he supposes the hammer and tongs had made enough of a name for itself before the city’s fall).

after that realization, he ponders it for a while — loneliness. he realizes, as he sits down at the kitchen table with a stack of sandwiches, that he can’t really remember the last time he was alone for any significant period of time. any time he was must have been too short or too full of adventure and peril to allow him any time to think it through. for all the uncountable permutations of death during the century on the starblaster, he was never alone. maybe briefly, in the woven gulch before jack and june, but he was, of course, dying.

then, before julia, he surrounded himself with people, because lucretia had dropped him into a city full of them, so what else was he supposed to do? and then there was during julia, and after — but even then, he remembers enough of that grief driven period to know that he still wasn’t really alone.

and then there was the bureau, and the rest of his family, and this slow reconstruction period. the last year has been a wave of people in and out of his house, ever since he packed up and left the moon base and started over here in raven’s roost. it’s never hit him really, until now.

he feels suddenly very naked, and very much not hungry. he sets down the sandwich in his hand and fights the urge to run to steven’s tank and scoop him out to slip him into his pocket. his breath is coming a little harsh, but the sound of it is distant and cold.

is that what this is, he wonders? is it the loneliness? is it the emptiness of the other side of the bed? is it the fact that there’s no crackle of a fire, and merle isn’t snoring and taako isn’t restlessly tossing back and forth? is it that he can’t hear barry talking in his sleep and lup talking back, that he can’t hear davenport slowly opening each door in turn to reassure himself that they’re all there, that he can’t hear the soft patter of lucretia’s feet on the cold metal floor early in the morning? is it the silence?

he comes back to himself then, and his hands are shaking a little. his head feels stuffy, like he’s been crying, but his cheeks are dry. he swipes hastily at his nose and shakes his head and starts stuffing his mouth with sandwiches. if that is what it is, then he’ll just have to adjust. it’s time for everyone to move on. taako’s got the school to worry about, angus has classes, lup and barry and merle have their new jobs, lucretia has the rebuilding of an entire world, and davenport is far out of reach. they’ve all got their own preoccupations, and he’s certainly not about to disturb that because he can’t sleep when it’s too fucking quiet.

besides, that’s far from the worst someone could come out with after a hundred and ten years of trauma. he could have two childhood’s worth of memories to reconcile, he could have static between his ears and migraines that split when he thinks too hard about his name sometimes, he could have the guilt of a necessary betrayal, he could have children to raise, he could have been without a fucking body for the better part of a decade.

he just needs to adjust. he’ll be fine.

* * *

hindsight being what it is — he doesn’t adjust. the week comes and goes, and then the next. well, maybe it’s not fair to say he doesn’t adjust. he does, in the sense that by day 8, he’s kind of accepted that more than two or three hours of sleep is too much to expect.

on day 10, he debates taking railsplitter to the silencing enchantment on steven’s tank filter, just to invite some noise into the house, but he’s afraid he’ll break it beyond repair, so he just sinks into his rocking chair and carves the beginnings of an elaborate jellyfish.

on day 12, he doesn’t even try. he settles in on the couch and carves by the light of steven’s tank, wondering how many tentacles he should give it.

on day 15, he finishes with what he’s decided is fisher and starts in on junior.

he finishes junior by day 21, and after that he loses count.

* * *

with winter a month away, he realizes late one night (early one morning) while putting the finishing touches on an intricate replica of the starblaster that he has no idea what everyone’s doing for candlenights. this is probably his own fault for falling out of touch over the last few weeks, but it’s hard to write and harder to call with a body weighed down by sleep debt.

and maybe that’s what he needs — just a little recharge. just the buzz and hum of family around him, good food and good people and good energy, and then maybe this will all fade away and he can get back to rebuilding a life properly. he resolves to call merle in the morning — he’s just the right cross of gossip and secret keeper that he’ll know what the plans are without passing along that magnus was asking, and he won’t have to deal with the embarrassment and shaming that comes from things like that.

even with as little sleep as he got, the excitement of the upcoming conversation has him bursting with energy all day, but he tries to keep it down as much as he can and focus on his morning chores and routine. he can barely contain it by the time noon rolls around, and even merle should be awake by that time, so magnus snatches his stone up from the nightstand and marches bouncily into the living room, where he sinks into the couch and eagerly tunes into merle’s personal frequency. “merle?” he says.

there is mostly quiet except for a soft bubble of feedback, so he raises the stone to his mouth and calls the cleric’s name again. “merle? it’s magnus.”

more quiet feedback, and a long, worrying pause before a groggy, rough, earthy voice comes back with, “maggie? better be a fuckin’ emergency. ya know what time it is?”

“uh,” he says. “noon?”

“mmmfffgggh,” merle responds, which isn’t much of an answer. “maybe where you are.”

“oh,” he realizes, and guilt floods him. “oh jeez, merle, i’m sorry, i didn’t realize—“

“nnng, ‘s fine,” merle says, followed by some shuffling and groaning. “prob’ly time to get up anyways. kids’ll be hankering for breakfast soon. what’s up?”

“i can call back,” magnus says, suddenly embarrassed. the letter he stuffed in the back of the drawer in the nightstand springs to mind, even though this is far from the same situation. “i was just checking in. we haven’t talked in a while.”

merle snorts. “too damn busy most days for checking in with folks, but it’s nice of you to call, maggie. how’s things?”

magnus hesitates, though he doesn’t know why. things are good. raven’s roost is rebuilding, he has plenty to keep him busy during the days — it’s just the nights that leave him a bit empty handed and uncertain. “i’m good,” he says finally. “how about you?”

“not bad, not bad,” merle says distantly. “business’s good, slowin’ down a bit for winter, but what can you do?”

magnus hums sympathetically, and just like that the conversation turns easy and flowing. the embarrassment fades in the face of a chat with a friend he’s known for more than a century, who’s seen him at his best and his worst and his drunkest and his most dead. which is kind of a nice reassurance — never mind the insomnia, because merle has seen him die nineteen times— no, more than that now, and he’s seen magnus be reborn, and he’s seen him cry and break down, and he’s seen him shake with rage and with fear and with every emotion on the spectrum. he’s seen him be _remade_.

“so hey,” magnus says finally, maybe a little awkward. all that buildup just for this, and it suddenly feels like he’s pushing too far, asking too much, even though he knows he’s not. “what’s, uh— what’s everybody’s plans for candlenights?”

“hmm,” merle says, as thoughtful as merle gets. “not completely sure, to be honest with ya. i’m s’posed to get the kids for the day but who knows if their mom won’t change her mind.”

“oh,” magnus says. “well, what about, uh, what about lup and barry? or taako and kravitz? luce? angus has to come home from school, right, and capnport’ll be back in at some point? right?”

“i couldn’t tell ya, maggie,” merle says, and he does sound a little guilty. “to be honest, lucretia ‘n’ dav ain’t been keeping real close in touch, and i think lup and bare and krav’ve been kinda busy, i don’t know all what they’ve been up to. i s’pose ango’ll be back from school, but taako doesn’t call so i’m not sure.”

“oh,” magnus says again. well. that’s— it’s not what he wanted to hear. he was hoping that it was just his strange and accidental solitude that led to him not knowing the plans, not… he didn’t think it was that there _weren’t_ any plans.

that chills him a little. that— that can’t be right. but if there was something happening, merle would know. of all people, merle would know.

he’s been quiet too long. merle says, “magnus? you there?”

“oh,” magnus says — again. fuck. “yeah, sorry. distracted. um. so there’s no… plans? like for the family?”

“not that i’ve heard,” merle says. “so if you were planning on making an escape, you’re free and clear, kid.”

“no, that’s…” he trails off, and there’s a light pressure in his chest, like the mirror crushing him in lucas's lab. he has to struggle a little to take a deep breath, just enough that he notices it. he swallows roughly.

“maggie?”

“i, um,” magnus says, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to speak these next words, but he _has to_. he just has to see them, he has to have them under one roof, his roof, and— “no. i was just wondering because— i thought maybe everyone could come here, since there’s no real base of operations anymore, and i’ve got plenty of space to keep everyone, or i can make space anyway, and it would be a shame if we didn’t all get together for the first real candlenights we’ve had in… well. ever. and you can bring the kids! and taako and lucretia probably need to spend some time around each other in like, a happy setting, and if taako’s there then we can probably convince kravitz and he’ll probably give lup and barry the day off and—“

merle laughs suddenly, low and friendly and rumbling and warm. “you know, kid,” he says as magnus falls silent, “that sounds kinda nice.”

something burns in magnus’s chest like the sparks of prestidigitation, fierce and intense but— hopeful. “yeah?” he says. none of that was what he was planning to say, really. he certainly doesn’t know where he would put the entirety of his family — the house is a 2-bedroom-and-a-couch type of situation, but they’ve all slept in places much worse than a mostly clean floor, so they probably wouldn’t complain. well, taako would complain, but that’s why there’s the extra bedroom.

and the more he thinks about it, no matter how spur of the moment it was, the more he likes the idea, the more it builds hopeful and exciting inside him.

“yeah,” merle says. “it sounds real nice. like i said, i dunno what all the rest of the fam’s got cooking, but i’ll pass on the word that maggie’s lookin’ to put together a little shindig and i’ll let you know who bites. although… might be best to talk to taako and lucretia ‘bout as close together as you can, if you know what i mean.”

“i’ll talk to them,” magnus says quickly. now that the option is there, he can’t let it go. it’s not just about getting to sleep — it’s about the way that he hasn’t talked to anyone in weeks, and merle apparently hasn’t talked to anyone in weeks, and lucretia and davenport and lup and barry and taako haven’t talked to anyone in weeks, and there’s no plans for candlenights, and… it’s not right. it’s just not right.

“well, alrighty then,” merle says, and he sounds much more awake now than he did before. “i’ll give ya a call once i figure out what’s up with the kids. didja need anything else, maggie?”

magnus pauses, and his tongue rests against his teeth, and he’s a second away from asking — a second away from _i need help_. but he doesn’t. this isn’t a battle, this isn’t a fight. he doesn’t need avi to blast the wolf off his back. he can fix this on his own.

“no,” he says finally. “i’m good. just wanted to check in. take care, merle.”

“yeah, you too, kid,” merle says, in his distantly warm and fatherly way. “don’t be a stranger.”

“i won’t,” magnus promises. and he won’t — not with this.

* * *

the thing with taako and lucretia is… difficult. the main problem is that they have both acknowledged, logically, that lucretia did what she had to and it wasn’t perfect or ideal or even really good, but none of the other options they had were really any of those things either. but lucretia is still beating herself up over it anyway, as she has been for the last decade probably, and unfortunately, so is taako.

he’s not being overtly or loudly mean about it, and the hardest part about it is that no one can even really blame him. it’s kind of different for magnus, because he would never have met julia if not for what lucretia did, but even then there are moments (especially late at night, with a hunk of wood and a knife in his hand) where he sits and thinks about how julia will never know who he really was — and that’s lucretia’s fault.

but it’s hard for him to be mad at her about it. it sucks, yeah. it’s upsetting and it hurts, but she had to do it. but magnus didn’t have his childhood ripped out of his head and rewritten and rearranged and stuffed back in. magnus didn’t spend the last decade not knowing what he had lost, even while that loss clawed at him from the inside out. lup and taako fight about it, he knows, but taako is far too stubborn to give in even to his sister, so he’s not going to give up on this any time soon.

but again, he’s not being outwardly, overtly mean. he’s just having merle carry her invitation to the school’s groundbreaking instead of delivering it himself, and again for the big orientation party for the students and staff and assorted donors. he won’t be alone in a room with her, and sometimes he won’t be in a room with her at all.

it’s hard to watch, because they get along so fucking well when things are… normal. they’re both whip smart and determined and stubborn as all hell, and when they put their heads together they can pull out some of the most impressive magic anyone on any plane of any system anywhere has ever seen.

but neither of them are good at talking, or relating to other people, and while taako wraps himself up in _himself,_ lucretia balks in the face of conflict and throws up a shield and finds a way to blame herself. and right now, they're feeding into each other's worst parts, and magnus is really only aware of this because it bugs the _hell_ out of everyone else, but he is aware.

so, long story short: he knows better than to mention either of them to the other. it's not lying — he's not going to directly mislead them, but he refuses to have a candlenights missing a single member of his family. the last time all seven of them stood in the same room was a long time ago, but it's been even longer since all seven of them stood in the same room and were _happy_ about it.

there was a day, somewhere later in the cycles but before lup and barry proposed their big plan, before that rift got driven hard and forceful and sharp down the center of their family — there was a day where they lost more than usual. taako and lup never took well to losing one another, but it got better after lup and barry did their thing. or at least it did until it was taako getting hurt, and taako dying, and lup had to carry on for a year without her brother.

davenport went missing that cycle, and merle went looking for him, and neither of them ever came back. it was only one week into the cycle, and lucretia was shot down three days later by a scared little kid with magic, who thought she was an attacker. that left the three of them — magnus and barry and lup, and four deaths in less than a week hurt, no matter how many times they had been through this.

late one night, the three of them sat on the deck of the starblaster and lup did tricks with fire summoned to her fingertips to entertain them. they'd collectively agreed there was no point in trying to hunt down the light with their forces so drained, which meant they had twelve months to weather out and try to survive.

it hit harder than usual, the inevitability of this world's death. it felt bleaker, and more harsh, and lup made the fire in her hands dance in little patterns and shapes. she drew a dick in the air and winked at barry, and he blushed and looked away, and she laughed and said, "don't worry, babe, you're bigger than that," and then winked at magnus like that wasn't going to be weird.

she drew the fire into more elaborate shapes, dramatic patterns and comical little cartoons, until barry's eyelids started to droop and he nodded off with his head on her shoulder, and she finally let the flames extinguish and dropped her head back against the wall behind her.

silence fell for a while, until lup broke it with an announcement — "i miss taako."

barry didn't stir, and magnus looked down at his lap. "yeah," he said, because he didn't know what else to say.

"i hate being alone," lup said. "i know you guys are here, and i wouldn't trade you for the— well, i mean. i'm not gonna say the world. but i wouldn't trade you guys for pretty much anything, but i think i might trade you for my brother."

magnus stared down at his hands, no more rough than the day they left their home world, though it still surprised him sometimes at the beginning of these cycles to pick up his axe and not feel familiar calluses press against its grip. "i think that's fair," he said.

"it's not," lup said. "he'll be back. all of them will be back. and i mean, it's not like bare can die anymore anyway. but taako and i are selfish, and logic isn't gonna stop that."

magnus frowned and picked his head up to stare at lup. "i don't think you're selfish."

lup laughed, the shaking of her shoulders still not quite enough to rouse barry. "that's nice, mags," she said, "but you're wrong. we are, because we had to be. taako and i are pretty different, but not on this. trust me. i'm as selfish as he is."

it was hard to argue with that. taako and lup weren't — well. none of them were really good people, not then, and not anymore. it's been a long time since any of them were good people, but now they're cowards and they're killers and there, on that planet, they were genocidal. every race of living beings on that world's planes would die, because they couldn't risk searching for the light with a party so small, even if lup and barry might have outlived it, because there was no guarantee they wouldn't get separated from the starblaster, and there were other planes and other worlds and other universes to think about, but mostly... they were the only seven people in all of existence, sometimes, and they couldn't let their family die.

they're all a little selfish still, magnus thinks as he sits with his stone in his hand, some thirty years later. that probably won't ever change. but taako and lup are the way they are because it's the only way they could survive, and life on the starblaster didn't help. barry did, for lup, and maybe in a couple decades, kravitz will do something like that for taako, when taako can learn to see himself as someone who can be loved without qualifiers by someone who isn't his sister. but for now, that pain and that fear and that loneliness and the decade he spent drowning in those things outweighs the one thing they all learned over their century — that their family cannot be broken apart forever.

magnus calls taako three times and gets nothing but static and crackling feedback. that kind of noise grates, even now, so he gives up and calls lucretia instead. she doesn't answer either, not right away, but an hour later, when magnus is chopping wood and dripping sweat down his back with the blissful, cathartic sensation of exertion, he hears his stone call from under the big oak tree. "magnus?"

he drops his axe into the dirt and wipes sweat from his face as he sinks into the earth under the tree and picks up his stone. "hey, luce!" he says, suddenly eager and bursting with an excitement he can't contain.

she doesn't bother to correct him, but he can hear her smile a little into the stone when she speaks. "you called me earlier?" she prompts him.

"yeah, i was gonna invite you to candlenights here!" he announces. it feels good, like a grounding sort of weight in his torso, to say it out loud and for real.

"o-oh," lucretia says, faltering just the slightest. he can picture her, in her new office in the bureau's big fancy new building, eyes darting around the room while she weighs her options. she's so careful and certain now, but she still carries so much of the scared little girl she was when they left home. magnus can see it in her now, and he can see it in his memories of some of the quieter moments back at the bureau, before the day of story and song. she used to pause and think for a long time, and it always felt like she was just trying to be — well, bureaucratic and directorial. but he knows now that she was uncertain, and scared, and it hurts him to know he couldn't be there for her then.

"i haven't talked to everyone yet," magnus tells her, "but merle's probably coming with the kids, and i... i think it would be good to have everyone together. you know? we couldn't do that last year."

he leaves out why that wasn't possible — she knows. it's not that her decision didn't hurt him, but he knows how much she's punished herself already and there's no _point_ in pushing it further. he misses his family. he wants her to come home.

"no, we couldn't," she says quietly. "i'm not sure if… magnus, i have a lot of work happening here. there's so much to rebuild."

just another way for her to punish herself, he knows. of course she should help with the rebuilding, they all should. he wouldn't ask her _not_ to, but—

"you're giving everyone else time off, aren't you?" he says. "why don't you get to do the same thing?"

she pauses, and he pictures her looking down at the big mahogany desk he built for her, and he pictures her smiling thoughtfully to herself, and she says, "well, i..."

"don't be so hard on yourself, luce," magnus says. "you deserve some time off. and i miss you. it's been a long time, since we could all get together. everyone misses you."

she makes a little noise like she doesn't agree, but magnus doesn't call her on it. there's no point in bringing it up. they're both thinking of the same thing. "i'm really not sure, magnus," she says. "some of these projects can't be pushed back."

"just for a few days," magnus pleads, and he knows he's begging, but he _needs_ lucretia to be there.

she's quiet for a moment, and then finally she says, "i'll see what i can do."

which, coming from her, is as good as a yes.

he grins, big and bold and unstoppable, and says, "great! just bring some clothes and stuff, i'll take care of everything else! and i don't know about a gift exchange but you know, if you wanna, feel free. but you don't gotta. it'll be good to just have everyone around. i don't know exactly when everyone's coming in but—"

she laughs suddenly, soft and gentle but weighty and _real_ and it makes him smile even wider. "okay, magnus," she says. she says his name the way she said it in their slower years on the starblaster, the way she said it in quiet moments on the moon, in between missions when he could cajole her into eating with them in the base's big cafeteria. she says it like she knows him better than he does, and it doesn't scare her to stand in front of all that big, loud, explosive energy and take all of its force. she says it like she loves him.

"sorry," he says, but he's still smiling. "i'll call you when i have the details."

"that sounds good, magnus," she says, warm and quiet. they say their goodbyes, and he sets his stone down in his lap and lets his head rest back against the tree. he closes his eyes and lets the late autumn sun beat down on his face, warming his whole body the way lucretia's voice warmed him. it's a good day.

* * *

taako never gets back to him, though he does try to call again later, after he's dumped a heap of stew down his throat and settled down on the couch with a new block of wood and his knife in his hand, the rest of his tools spread out across the table in front of him. the stew was bland and fatty, and he half hoped while he ate it that taako would sense it and call him back, but he gets nothing.

he knows better than to expect sleep by now. he props himself up with a couple big, fluffy pillows behind his back and lets his hands move of their own accord, not completely sure what he's planning to carve until a duck starts to take shape. it's automatic and thoughtless, the movements familiar and rote, but it's comforting, too. it fills his mind with thoughts of fisher, and of lup and barry and their hands clasped tight together, and the wonder on lucretia's face when she followed him into the voidfish's caves. that wasn't a great year, and they couldn't save everyone, but they saved _someone._ they saved fisher, and fisher saved them, so many years later. it was still a good year.

he carves the duck carefully, but his movements are sure and easy and the repetition of it has his eyes finally drooping well past midnight. his body finally starts to feel heavy, and with a low groan he sets his half-formed duck and his knife aside and levers himself up off the couch.

his bed is warm and forgiving, but it still feels wrong. even as his eyes drift shut, his mind still paces through the events of the day, retraces his steps through town and around the house, tricks him for a second into thinking the locks aren't done and the windows aren't shut tight. he doesn't want to get up, but he can't leave it, just in case, so he drags himself back to his feet and does a second round around the house. everything is fine.

he falls back into bed afterwards, railsplitter and the chance lance and the sword safe and stowed away just within reach, under the bed. it feels like a long time before he finally falls asleep, but it's short and fitful and he wakes, over and over and over.

he dreams only once, for what must be minutes but feels like days. he dreams of the hammer and tongs, burning down to coals, and raven's roost in shambles around it. he comes down to the city from the starblaster, which has crashed somewhere out of reach, and lucretia is alone onboard. "she had it coming," says taako, made of stone. merle frowns at him but says nothing.

"no she didn't," magnus whispers, staring at the ashes of his home. "she didn't deserve this."

barry stares at him, eyes crackling with red energy and his hands incorporeal. "then help me find her," he says.

"she's _gone,_ " magnus says. he feels empty and desperate. she's gone. they'll never reach her, not now, not ever.

"who's gone?" taako demands irritably. barry makes a noise like something has been ripped out of him, but when magnus turns to face him he falls out of bed and lands hard on the wood floor, his chest heaving.

his throat aches and the sheets are twisted around his legs. it's not his usual alarm, but it works just as well as any other, he supposes. he lets his forehead press into the floor, trying to breathe through the tremble in his throat. his eyes burn, and his breath catches hard somewhere between his mouth and his chest. he forces it out and then back in.

after a long time, when he doesn't feel like he's about to shake apart, he untangles himself from the sheets and sits on the edge of the bed, eyes closed. he lets one hand reach out behind him, across the expanse of bed that hasn't had time to grow warm from his body, but his fingers don't meet a soft, familiar hand. there are no fingers that tangle with his. his wedding ring doesn't press light and steadying against another.

he misses her, so sudden and fierce that it overtakes him for a moment and he shakes as he tries to keep himself upright. it's not fair — she should be here with him. she shouldn't be gone. he might never have saved the world if she was around, but she shouldn't be _dead._ something else should have taken him from her side. he should have been able to come home to her. lucretia should have been able to find a way to pull him from raven's roost, or julia should have come with him. he should have taken her to neverwinter with him, but that wouldn't be right, either, to take her from her father, to take her father from _her,_ it just isn't fair, no matter what—

there's no solution. she's gone. his ring is like a vice around his finger, and his bed will be empty for the rest of his life. his house will be quiet. they'll never have kids — they talked about it, a few times, but it was always something for the future. one day, they always said, but never today. when he got back from neverwinter, maybe, they would have sat down and talked about it. but he came back to a ruined, empty city, a city of corpses and refugees who fled for safety, and none of it was _fair._ his mind bends around when he tries to make sense of it, but he supposes that's the definition of senseless.

she would know what to say right now, or maybe she wouldn't. maybe she wouldn't say anything at all, but she would hold his hand and tell him, "lay down, baby." no one else calls him that. no one else has ever called him that. he's always been too tall and too big, but julia held his hand and called him _love_ and _dear_ and _baby,_ and she made him feel gentle and warm where he had always been fierce and scalding. she tempered him and made him better. she took the axe from his hands and put a knife in it, and she held the axe herself and wielded it better than he did most days.

he's trembling a little, but it doesn't quite boil up hot enough for him to cry. he almost wishes he would — he wishes that the desperation with which he misses her right now didn't feel normal. he wishes this wasn't the baseline, for her absence to hurt so fucking bad and yet not a drop more than usual. he thinks maybe if he could force the tears, he would be able to fall asleep. maybe he wouldn't dream. maybe he wouldn't wake until morning.

he tries to make it happen, thinks of how small steven's plot of land looked without the hammer and tongs standing on top of it. he thinks of how the ashes and coals had burned so hot and so low that there was nothing left. he had nothing to bury, nothing to cremate and carry with him. he spent a full day searching through the wreckage, but he couldn't even find her ring. some part of his mind forces the memory from his thoughts, and he makes a little noise like a whine as he loses it.

if he knew who to pray to, he would, he thinks. but even all the gods they've come into contact with over all these years probably couldn't help now. istus won't help, probably couldn't if she wanted to. that isn't how she works.

"julia," he whispers, because he doesn't know who else to talk to.

"i don't know what to do," he whispers.

"this is really hard," he whispers, and that's near fucking impossible to get out.

"i miss—" he starts to say, and doesn't know how to finish it. he misses his family. he misses her. she would have loved lup, he thinks. she would have brought lucretia out of her shell. she and merle would have gotten along like wildfire, probing each other with dirty jokes and loud laughter ringing through the house. lup would have joined in, and taako would roll his eyes and barry would blush and splutter and excuse himself to go find davenport.

but she'll never know them. she'll never know _him,_ as he was, as he is. she'll only ever have known him as the man he was before he remembered, as a carpenter and a husband. maybe it's selfish, but he wishes she could have known him as a hero of the universes, as a man who fought and protected and _saved._ he wishes she could have heard fisher's song, and junior's, too. he wishes she knew where he came from and what he was and who he was, and he wishes she was here now to help him build the city back up. he wishes she could hold his hand now and tell him, "you did good. you were _amazing._ "

and she can't.

it's not as if this is new, but it hurts as much as it did the first day that it touched him. he opens his eyes finally, and the darkness peels back a little, lets him just barely make out the edges of the nightstand and the door frame. the room is so quiet, punctured only by his small, quiet breaths. he shifts, just a little, just to make some noise. it feels oppressive suddenly, heavy on his shoulders, and he shifts again, and then finally stands up and heads for the door on unsteady feet.

steven bubbles at him inside his tank, but otherwise pays him no attention as he settles into a now familiar divot in the couch. he picks his duck back up again, then thinks better of it and stuffs his feet into his boots, sockless, to head outside and grab a new hunk of wood.

when he re-seats himself back on the couch, he picks up his knife and lets his mind and his hands drift again. it's a wonder, exhausted as he is, that he doesn't slice his hand open. instead he lets the wood shape itself, until a vague head and four legs and a tail begin to emerge.

"maybe we'll just get a dog for now," julia said once, laughing with her head pillowed on his bare chest. she traced the scars on his ribs and looked up at him, smiling.

"i think a dog would be nice," he said, smiling back at her. she sat up and her hair fell from her shoulders, hanging down around him. he reached up and pushed it back behind her ear, and she smiled at him and leaned down and kissed him, and it was warm and easy and good.

"not now, though," she said, and patted his cheek. "you've got to focus on that chair. puppy would just distract you."

he pulled her down to kiss her again, both of them still smiling. "when i'm done, then," he said. "when i get back. we'll go, uh... dog shopping."

"mmhm," she said. "something like that."

he lets his block fall into his lap and stares up at the dimly lit ceiling. it'll be hours before the sun is up. when it rises, he'll get up and feed steven, and he'll make himself breakfast and maybe some tea, and then he'll head down to town to see where he's needed. he'll try to call taako, and hopefully he'll get him on the line this time and that'll be the main heft of his invitations done. he'll have to see with the grocer about getting enough food for them all — it's a small operation and it's hard to get anything in bulk just yet. he'll have to dig out some blankets and pillows and maybe put in an order to the next big city to make sure he's got enough for everyone. he's going to need more chairs. it might be a busy day.

he picks his wood back up and lets his thumb rest against the head of the dog. something like that, he thinks.

* * *

he tries taako again on his walk back up to the house, and this time he answers, flippant and casual as always. "go for taako!" bursts across the line, and despite the weight magnus feels today, he can't help but grin.

"why do you even have a stone if you don't answer it?" he says, but he's sure taako hears the smile.

"pssh," taako dismisses it. "plane of thought, baby. book tour, signings, all kinds of shit. got a brand to restart. and the boyf came with me, made a trip out of it. plane of thought's got shit reception."

"mmhm, blame it on the planar system," magnus teases him, lightly. he's still got a ways to go back up to the house, but it feels good to have something to do on his long walk. the dirt under his feet is familiar and not at the same time.

he can practically _hear_ taako shrug. "taako's a busy man, my dude," he says. "so whatcha need? gotta get back to, uh, work."

magnus can't help laughing. he missed taako, missed the way he can take a long, heavy day and dismiss it, dispel it into mist and dust. "can't i just wanna talk?" he says.

"nope," taako says. "look, big guy, i'll be straight with you. krav’s got one more day before he's gotta head back to work, and we're looking to make the most if it, if you catch my drift."

magnus thinks about playing dumb for a second, then decides against it. "doesn't sound very straight to me," he says.

there's a brief moment of stunned silence, and then taako says, "magnus _fucking_ burnsides."

magnus laughs, fully and heavy like he hasn't in what feels like a long time.

"don't fucking laugh at that," taako says, but his voice is distant, like he's turned his head away from the stone. "no, don't laugh! he's not funny! it's funny when i do it, it's not funny when he does it!" there's a brief silence, and then taako groans and his voice comes through clearer. "all right, mags, you've got thirty seconds before i hang up and go bone my boyfriend." another pause, and his voice comes through tinny again. "you actually are supposed to laugh at _that!_ "

“i can be funny,” magnus protests.

“no you can’t,” taako informs him. “what do you want, big man, taako’s got important shit to do.”

“we’re doing candlenights at my place,” magnus says, and it comes easier than before. it makes him feel a little guilty, that it’s so much easier to talk to taako and merle, but he’s spent so long with them, just the three of them. and they’ve got an experience that the others just… can’t really understand. davenport, maybe, but it doesn’t feel right to compare what they went through to that.

“hm,” taako says, trying for nonchalant and mostly landing it. “sounds mushy. will there be crying?”

“depends on merle, i guess,” magnus says.

taako snorts, a little moment outside his usual decorum, something he reserves for the people he calls family, though not always out loud. "yeah," he says. "guess so. the old man's gonna be there, then?"

he's fishing, magnus knows, and he already feels bad for the lies of omission he's going to feed him. they've all been through enough of that already. "yeah," he says. "that's the plan, anyway. probably gonna bring his kids, so... you could bring kravitz. and angus."

"interesting parallel you're drawing there, bud," taako says. "not sure i like it."

"well angus calls you more than anyone else," magnus says. "he's coming home for the holiday anyway, isn't he?"

"dunno," taako says. "i guess. maybe. haven't talked to him about it."

magnus frowns, only to wipe it away to wave at a passing almost-stranger coming the opposite way down the slope. "you should," he says. "i don't know that he's got anywhere else to go."

"since when's that my responsibility?" taako asks, growing irritable. he doesn't mean anything by it, magnus knows. magnus could be cruel here — he could point out that taako can't just shove angus off to the nearest adult, the way he and lup were shoved around. he could mention, gently but pointedly, that angus looks up to them all, but he looks at taako differently. that taako taught him how to cook, taught him his first spells. that taako has done for angus what magnus knows (mostly from lup, though a little from long nights around a fire with taako and merle) that taako's aunts and uncles and cousins did for him.

"i just thought it'd be nice to get everyone together," magnus says instead, shrugging even though taako can't see him.

"everyone," taako says back, and his voice is flat.

magnus tips his head back and stares up at the clouds ambling by slowly overhead. he knew there would be resistance, but it still weighs on him. things used to be so easy, he thinks. it used to be so simple, back when it was just them against the world. there were no accessory boyfriends and wives, no kids, biological or otherwise; there were no grudges and no heads crammed full of memories they still haven't quite processed. there was nothing back then that couldn't be wiped away by the passing of the planes, a reset that was physical and emotional and spiritual.

"i don't know who all's coming," magnus says. "but like i said, merle will be here with the kids, and you can bring kravitz if you want, or you don't have to. you know lup and barry will be here, and merle's gonna try to get a hold of cap'nport and... yeah. i think everyone would really like it if you were here, taako, and you can bring whoever you want with you."

there's a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence, almost long enough for magnus to start to worry that taako's switched his stone off. magnus isn't saying anything that taako wants to hear, but he's also not giving him anything he's going to be _angry_ about, either. he's not mentioning the name that taako wants to hear but doesn't.

"well i guess someone has to make sure you clowns don't eat bland garbage for a week straight," taako says finally.

magnus smiles, something warm like hope putting a little bounce back into his plod up the twisting path. "two pillows or one in the guest bedroom?" he asks.

"four," taako says. "and i'll let you know how many krav needs when i convince him not to let me die at this stupid shindig alone."

"there'll probably be gifts," magnus reminds him.

taako _hmphs._ "all right, bud, you've made your point. i'm not lugging ingredients over there, though, i'll send you a shopping list in a couple weeks."

"that sounds good, taako," magnus says. he means it.

taako doesn't answer.

* * *

he doesn't hear from anyone else for several days after that. he tries to make a list of everything he needs, but it's boring and doesn't hold his attention, and there's a blacksmith and his too young apprentice who stroll and stumble into town and they need help building somewhere to work, so magnus gets caught up in that for a week or so.

it feels like slow going, sometimes, but the work is good and it distracts him and gives him an excuse for not always being quite so enthusiastic as everyone seems to remember him. sleep still doesn't come, and when it does he wakes abruptly, each and every night. sometimes it's more dreams, memories mixed together in a disturbing and painful mash. he comes home from neverwinter to find taako and merle dead, and julia looks at him sadly and says, "i need your help, magnus."

other nights he wakes to silence like a thunderclap, and sometimes it's so bad he has to patrol around outside the house, taking stock of the weaknesses in the walls and the door hinges, as if any of it matters when he the world's most powerful magic users have laid protective spells into the very foundations of his house. it makes him feel better to put his fingers to the wood and search for spots he's not happy with, until his catalog has mounted too much, too many little flaws that build up to something bigger and scarier.

it's stupid, he thinks, as he tries to calm himself with wood and a knife. his old woodworking calluses are coming back, slowly, replacing the ones built around railsplitter's grip. no one is going to come after him. there's not likely anyone out there who hates him enough to try to sneak into his house in the dead of night and kill him, come after him, attack him. if they did, he sleeps so light these days that he could have a fist in their stomach and a weapon in his hand before they had a chance to fight back.

but still each night he walks circles around his house, and the routine gets longer with each passing week. he locks the front door, checks the windows on either side, checks the spot in the den where the outside wall is just a fraction of an inch thinner than everywhere else, locks the side door on the east wall out to the shed and the workshop, checks the windows in the kitchen, counts the kitchen knives and the woodworking knives, notices a draft in the guest bedroom and spends twenty minutes finding the spot in the wall where the wind is slipping through, checks the window in there, checks the window in his bedroom—

and finally, he lets himself sit down, but what if there are other weaknesses in the guest bedroom? taako and kravitz are going to be sleeping there, and it's not that they can't take care of themselves, but he has to make sure it's _safe._ he's going to be hosting people in his house, he has to— he doesn't know what he has to do. he just has to make sure that it's safe.

there are no other weaknesses in the guest bedroom. he returns to his own bedroom and lays down, but his mind is too awake. he nods off for half an hour on the couch, much much later, and wakes up when the sun starts to spill in through the window. blearily, he thinks he should get curtains. it won't do to have anyone peer through the window and find his family asleep in a sprawl across the floor.

* * *

the blacksmith's name is jonas, and magnus isn't a huge fan of his. he's friendly enough, but he has a kind of gruff sophistication to him that magnus doesn't particularly care for. he's a little too rough with his apprentice, a short little half-elf whose name is brindle. jonas is never harsh with him, and he never hits him, not that magnus can see, but his hand is a little too forceful when he puts it on brindle's shoulder and pushes him to the side so he can stand at the counter. magnus doesn't think he's a bad person, but brindle is so young, and he looks at jonas with big wide eyes that remind magnus of a pair of circular glasses and a voice that hasn't quite broken, and it doesn't sit right with him.

but he wants to put a new lock on the side door. he needs taako to enchant it first, and it makes his skin crawl to think that he might install it and then forget to ask about the enchantment, but he has to have the lock to install it in the first place.

jonas has brindle take down notes for magnus's order. brindle's handwriting is small and sloppy, and half the words are spelled wrong. jonas rolls his eyes and takes the pen from brindle's hand, but he isn't rude or angry, just annoyed, and brindle's disappointment is evident in the slump of his shoulders. magnus tries to give him a little smile when jonas isn't looking, but brindle just stares at him, bewildered.

jonas is a bit burdened down with orders at the moment. the town was in sore need of a qualified blacksmith for the rebuilding process — they've been having to send riders to nearby cities to bring back heaps of their commissions. their tools are wearing down, and although luckily they haven't had much need of weapons, magnus knows it puts everyone at ease to know that they have someone to go to when they need repairs or new pieces. they've maybe been asking a little too much of him, right at the start.

magnus's order isn't a desperate need, and it's going to take a while until jonas clears out the highest priority pieces and he can get to this. "it's no rush," magnus tells him. "i just wanna replace the one i have in there now."

"it might be a month or so," jonas warns him.

magnus shrugs. "i'll be okay," he says. and he will, but his family might not. they're some three weeks out from candlenights now. once taako is here, magnus can have him lay some spellwork on the lock and they can install it together, but he doesn't want to leave the door the way it is while people are sleeping in his house. there's nothing _wrong_ with the current lock, but sometimes the door sticks, and he thinks it's the lock catching in just the wrong way and he's afraid it's going to wear out faster.

"sir..." brindle says, and it's the first time magnus has heard him speak. his voice is deeper than magnus expected, and he has to quickly reassess his ideas about brindle's age. he's looking up at jonas with a kind of desperate look in his big eyes.

jonas sighs and looks away from magnus to fix brindle with a stoic, silent look. brindle holds his gaze for a full, long second, and then the almost-hope in his expression fades and he looks away and down to the counter.

"um," magnus says, drawing both of their attention back to him. he should really leave this to someone experienced, he thinks, but it's so simple. it's such an easy job, and brindle is fairly early on in his apprenticeship, it'll be a long time before he's ready to take on some of the bigger projects jonas is working on now. magnus remembers his early days at the conservatory, and again in steven's apprenticeship, and he remembers the way his hands just didn't work right, and the tools would slip and fumble in his grasp, and he remembers how badly he wanted to ask to help with something bigger than a _duck,_ bigger than a footstool, but every time he tried it came out rough and wrong.

steven was gentle with him, though, and kind. he would hold magnus's hands in his while he worked nails and glue in to place, steadying his shaky and frantic grip. he taught magnus how to measure and level and fasten, and he never turned magnus away when he asked to work on something bigger. steven took an order for a big, ornately carved and intricately detailed banquet table with benches attached, for some society or order or something out in neverwinter, maybe four months into magnus's apprenticeship with him. at that point, magnus had barely managed competency with the saw and the hammer, but when he caught magnus pouring over the order form and its full page of notes, he smiled and asked if magnus wanted to help.

the circumstances were a little different — there was no desperate need to rebuild, no backlog of massively important orders, no one whose business had ground to a halt while they waited for steven and magnus to build them a bed frame. but steven didn't have to let magnus help, and he did anyways.

"um," magnus says now, looking at brindle and seeing angus and magnus and even taako, a little, all at the same time. "it's a simple job. if brindle's not too busy helping..."

jonas doesn't frown, just purses his lips and looks down at brindle again, like he's quietly assessing his skills and his competency. magnus has no idea how good brindle is, but he figures jonas wouldn't have brought him along to start a new business in a new town if he couldn't at least handle something small.

and, admittedly, it will make magnus feel better, to leave today and feel like he's done something. there is a small, selfish part of him that just wants to know that he's helped, that when he lays down tonight for another night of restlessness that at least he's given someone a chance. maybe it will change the way jonas looks at brindle, or maybe it won't. but magnus will have given them a _chance._

"i have some extra time, sir," brindle says, in his voice so quiet and deep, at odds with his stature and his big eyes. "i don't mind. i could—" he cuts himself off before he finishes the sentence, but magnus knows what he's thinking, because he remembers thinking it himself. i could help, when you're busy. when you have too much to work on, i could take on the smaller orders. i don't know if i'm ready, but i want to try.

"hm," jonas says quietly. he looks back up to magnus. "the boy hasn't done many projects on his own. you understand if you're not happy with the product, it's going to take me even longer to get to it later."

as long as the fucking door doesn't stick, magnus thinks, but he shakes his head. "that's fine," he says. he offers brindle another smile, and is met with just another bewildered stare.

"all right then," jonas says. he notes something down at the bottom of the notes for magnus's order and then holds the paper out to brindle without looking. brindle takes the paper a little too quickly, a little too eager, and drops out of sight to file it away. jonas smiles at magnus, businesslike and polite with no joy in it at all. "pleasure doing business with you."

* * *

four days later, magnus wakes up and feeds steven and gets ready to head down into town again. two young girls have rolled into town and gotten jobs at the little grocer's near city center, but they're holed up in the room on the second floor of the tavern, and they need a place to live.

the air is certainly colder today, and it's making magnus's hands ache as he pounds nails into the framework building up from the foundation, even through his gloves. the wind is light but biting when it picks up, and magnus keeps shivering, and it's making it hard to hold the nails.

but it's a sure sign that winter is here, or near enough. magnus slept even worse than usual last night — he didn't sleep at all the night before, and yesterday he walked around like a zombie, desperate for just a few short moments to nod off. last night his sleep was fragmented into seconds at a time, jolting awake near constantly. but he was so tired, and his body ached, and he couldn't bring himself to drag his heavy, weary frame out to the couch. he managed a few minutes just as the sun was coming up, and it was just enough to give him the strength to get up this morning and eat and head out to work.

he feels better now, with wood and tools in his hands. he's running only on wisps of sleep and the breakfast he crammed down this morning, but he feels better with something to _do._ he makes good progress before lunch, if only because he knows that if he stops, he might not be able to pick back up again. but eventually his body, desperate and clawing at him for _something,_ some sort of energy, reminds him that he does in fact have to eat, so he packs up his tools and heads to the tavern for lunch.

they never let him pay here, which is embarrassing, and he tried to just stop going, but eleanor, the bar's chirpy young proprietor, hunted him down and insisted he come back. she reminds him of ren a little, in the way that all of raven's roost reminds him of refuge sometimes, in a guilty way that he can't quite unpack.

the food isn't amazing, but it's good enough, and it's hearty and homey. magnus sits in the corner, at a table he built, and he nitpicks his work while he waits for his food. he never used to do that, he thinks. he could see the flaws, certainly, but at the conservatory he was never really thinking about it that way, about honing a craft — he just wanted to _do_ something back then, something concrete and real that would stick and last after the year was over. and in raven’s roost, steven pointed out the flaws when he noticed them, but he never scolded magnus or told him off. he would note the problems and teach magnus how to fix them, but magnus was never in trouble for them.

but now, he can't not see them. the table wobbles, just the tiniest bit, and it might be the floor, but he also helped lay the floorboards in here, so either way, really, it's his fault.

it used to be about being good, he thinks, not about being good _enough._ maybe that stopped being true when they realized that they couldn't keep running from the hunger forever. maybe it was when he realized that he had something more to live for, when fisher followed him onto the starblaster, so small and so scared and so lonely. maybe it was when he learned the art to his work, when steven took him in and taught him something more than just taking a knife to a block of wood.

or maybe it's just now, he thinks. maybe it's because he has no more excuses. there's no more impending doom, there's no more desperate race, so there's nowhere to hide. he can't hop back in the starblaster and run away, and he also can't hop back in a metal ball and blast back to the moon. he can't just be good anymore — he owes it to the people of faerun, of refuge and raven's roost and phandalin and everywhere else, to be good _enough_ to fix everything that he and his family broke.

eleanor interrupts his thoughts with a big bowl of soup, full of chicken and potatoes and celery and cheese. it's the kind of thing taako and lup would scoff at, and then spend the rest of the meal stealing bites, but it's exactly what magnus's weary body needs right now. he eats slowly, scared of spending what little energy he has left just on _eating._

"you look tired, magnus," eleanor says, topping off his glass for him.

"you don't have to do that," magnus says, pulling the glass just out of her reach as she pulls back her pitcher and stands straight again. "you won't let me pay for the meal, you don't have to keep giving me even more."

she rolls her eyes. "oh, please," she says. "even if i didn't want to, i'd get run out of town if anyone caught me giving you anything less than a king's treatment." she drops a hand on his shoulder, familiar and kind. she's young, mid twenties somewhere, and magnus feels so guilty taking from her. she should be building a business here, something that will outlast her and all of them.

it eats at him worse than usual today, and he thinks it could make him irritable and snappy if he lets it go too far, so he just offers her a small smile. "i appreciate it," he says. "but i'd appreciate it more if you could spread the word that everyone doesn't have to keep treating me like some kind of hero."

"you are a hero," eleanor says. she grips his shoulder a little tighter and gives it a light rub.

he doesn't feel like one, especially not today.

his stone of farspeech, tucked under his shirt, burps a little noise of feedback, some muffled word he can’t catch. he offers eleanor an apologetic little smile, and she pats his shoulder once more and then pulls away to tend to her other guests. magnus pulls his stone out and holds it up. “hello?”

“so were you gonna _tell_ me about this candlenights bullshit?” carey demands, loud and snappy and bright. the bar’s few midday patrons give him side-eyed looks at her language, but they all like him too much to comment. perks of saving the world, he supposes.

“i was gonna call you,” he says, feeling a little guilty because honestly — it had slipped his mind. he’d been so focused on getting the family together, he’d forgotten to loop carey and killian in, too.

“hmph,” carey says. “explains why i heard about it from the _director,_ then.”

“i’m sorry,” magnus says, and it probably sounds even more pathetic than it feels, but at least it’s honest. “i’m not— i haven’t been…”

carey cuts him off before he can make an excuse that will embarrass him or her or them both. “yeah, yeah,” she says. “well, the wife and i are crashing, so make room. and we're not bringing gifts, unless anyone wants a re-gifted stepstool. i don't remember asking anyone for a fucking stepstool, mags, was this you? we have like seven."

magnus laughs a little, quietly. this is normal carey — she's not mad at him. and he's never had to worry about that with her. she'll tell him if he does something wrong or pisses her off, that's just the kind of person she is. she's good and honest and open and magnus always kind of thought about himself that way, too, and that's why they always got along so well. but right now he doesn't feel very good and being honest has gotten harder over the last few years and so has being open. even just the thought of it aches sometimes, and that's... that's not right. not with his family. it shouldn't be like that.

and the ache sprouts more aches on its back, the guilt and the anxiety weighing him down. he should have called her. she's his sister, practically, why didn't he call her? she was just here only a couple months ago. that was the last time he slept really good, wasn't it? when she was around? why didn't he call her?

"i'm sorry, care," he says, and his voice is a little too quiet. the bar feels very dark and heavy and intense. he's only eaten half his soup, but he doesn't have the stomach for it anymore, so he stands up abruptly and fishes some coins out from his pocket to leave on the table. eleanor will give them back to him next time, but at least they'll have been there, just in case. at least he will have tried.

tried, like he didn't with carey. how did he forget about carey?

"jeez, mags, lighten up," carey says. "it's cool, really. you can't be all down in the dumps for candlenights, okay? hey, do you even have space for all these people? maybe k and i should get a room at the inn, they've still got one, right?"

"um," magnus says. his boots crunch heavy on the dirt, packed tight from the heavy, frequent traffic through city center. heavier than it used to be, still lighter than he remembers it, so long ago now. "yeah, they should. there's a couple girls staying there now, but i should have their place together by the time everyone gets here."

the words feel like autopilot, but he's thankful for them. it gives him something to think about, even if it's just that his tongue feels big and fat and wrong inside his mouth. he wants to go home and lie down and go to sleep, which as a concept is almost laughable.

"all right, cool," carey says. "hey, i'll call when we leave, okay? we'll prob' end up escorting the director anyway. you know, she seems kind of excited about this? i don't think i've seen her excited about anything, in... well. a while."

that— that helps. magnus smiles at that, without even having to think about it. lucretia deserves to be excited about something. and she deserves to have good people around her, like carey and killian and everyone else who's stayed on with the bureau.

"good," he says softly into his stone. it's only a short trek back up to the girls' new home, and as desperate as he is to get out of this conversation and think about anything else besides how bad he fucked this up, he's not ready to let go, either.

"that's good," he says again, and his feet stop autopiloting him next to the pack of tools he left wrapped up on the girls' little plot of land. "hey," he says. "i've gotta go. i'm glad you called."

"don't worry about it, bud," carey says. "hey, seriously, it's cool. it's been a long year. and k and i have been kind of busy anyway. probably wouldn't have answered even if you did call."

"yeah," he says. "still."

he doesn't know if carey picks up on everything he's trying to say, but it doesn't matter, he supposes. "it's fine, mags," she says. "i'll let you get back to work or whatever. love you, okay?"

"love you, too," he says. "killian, too."

"i'll pass it on," carey says. "talk to you soon, bud."

and then she's gone, and magnus is left alone again, with a hammer and a shell of wood that isn't a home yet.

* * *

taako sends him his shopping list. it takes a great deal of finagling to get everything, but he manages it. three days before people are supposed to start arriving, a week and a half before the holiday proper, magnus goes down into town to give the girls' at the inn the keys to their new home and pick up all his last minute supplies.

there are big, warm, heavy blankets from a sweet old lady and her son who run a seamstress shop. there are heaps of vegetables from the grocer and brown paper packages full of carefully wrapped meat from the butcher, packed into wooden crates enchanted to stay cold until he can get them home into the fridge. there are little bottles of seasoning and herbs from the general store that even taako can't keep fresh on the journey over ("because we're traveling in style, my man, big ol' carriage so we can pick up the boy on the way, krav's rifts make him carsick"). he's put in a massive custom order for a dozen pillows, too, and he has to stop by the post office to pick those up and load them in the horse-and-cart he's borrowed from someone he doesn't think could say no to him if they even wanted to.

and last, near noon when he's got the cart nearly full, he stops at jonas the blacksmith's small, dumpy shop. magnus should have done a better job on some of the load supporting beams in the corners. he's not a builder, really — he's a carpenter. but he's better with wood than anyone else in town, so he's had to learn.

still, he thinks, he should have done a better job.

the bell over the door rings as he steps inside, out of the slowly encroaching cold that's been building for a few days now. it's been dry for a week or so, but as soon as it rains, the cold will snap and snap hard, and the ground will freeze. he just hopes it waits until his family is safe and wrapped in warm blankets.

jonas is standing at the counter when magnus enters, and he looks up at him over the edges of his round glasses before straightening and barking something over his shoulder. magnus approaches slowly, a little wary until brindle appears in the doorway to the back room.

it's— it's something special. it's something warm and heartening, magnus thinks. brindle walks into the room looking frantic and a little harried and tired, most of all, but he brightens when he sees magnus. just a little. the corners of his lips ease, and his shoulders fall a little away from his ears, and he almost... smiles. magnus smiles back, and waves, and then brindle does smile, for real, before turning around and darting back into the other room.

magnus approaches the counter, and brindle comes back with a small box, which he has to stretch a little to set within magnus's reach. "i— i hope it's all right, sir," brindle says. jonas sits by silently, a pen in his hand and his attention seemingly still on the papers in front of him, but also blatantly turned towards them.

magnus opens the box, and nestled inside is a fairly rudimentary locking mechanism. even by eye, he can tell the sizes are exact. he lifts it carefully, minding the oil greasing the internal mechanisms, and runs his thumb over its sides. it's far from the best work he's ever seen, but the edges are clean and smooth, and they won't catch in the door frame. the metal is cold and hard and thick in all the right spots, good for spellwork.

he looks up at brindle, who's staring at him with those big, wide eyes, looking like he might bounce out of his skin with anticipation and anxiety. magnus smiles at him. "thank you, brindle," he says. "what do i owe you?"

the relief rolls off brindle in heavy, palpable ways, and he quickly ducks below the counter and resurfaces a moment later with a key that he slides over to magnus. "that'll be fifteen gold, sir," he says, and glances up at jonas, who nods silent approval and turns his head back to his paper.

magnus fishes out his coin purse and stacks eighteen gold on the counter. jonas glances over once, then looks back at his paperwork again. "only twelve into the safe, boy," he tells brindle.

brindle glances between jonas and the gold and magnus and then jonas again. "sir," he starts, and then doesn't seem to know how to finish.

"commission and a tip, boy," jonas says. "ought to get you new gloves before winter starts proper, anyway."

"th-thank you, sir," brindle says, giving jonas a polite little bow as he pulls magnus's coin towards him. he seems to remember magnus is there, then, and gives him a little bow, too. "thank you, sir!" he says again, brighter and louder and just a little desperate.

"naw, brindle, thank you," magnus says. he settles the lid of the box back on top of his purchase. "if i don't see you before the holiday, happy candlenights, both of you."

jonas inclines his head just slightly in acknowledgement, but brindle grins suddenly, big and happy and wide. "thank you, sir," he says — again. gods, he is like angus, though. "happy candlenights to you, too!"

magnus offers them both one more smile before he heads out the door with the new lock. he tucks it into one of the bigger pockets of his coat, then takes the horse's lead and slowly turns the cart around to head back up the slope.

happy candlenights, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! please feel free to let me know what you thought. if you don't want to comment, feel free to shoot me a dm on twitter @[magnusandjulia](https://www.twitter.com/magnusandjulia/) or hmu on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia) (which i have historically been very bad at checking so i apologize for that, but i will try). next chapter should be up monday november 9!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: more bad coping mechanisms; more descriptions of insomnia, nightmares, and hypervigilance; unknowing drug usage (there is a slightly longer slightly spoilery description of this in the end notes).
> 
> again, if you need any clarification on any of the warnings, especially the last one, please feel free to shoot me a message on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia).

taako and kravitz and angus are first to arrive, and magnus would know they were coming even if taako hadn't rung him up early in the morning, letting him know they would be rolling in around noon. it's an almost uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture, but it's outweighed by the fact that it's something like four in the morning when he calls. privately, magnus makes peace with it knowing that taako didn't wake him up, leaving him free reign to take the gesture at face value.

when the sun is about as high as it's going to get this time of year, magnus is outside fixing the wood store. about ten minutes earlier he spotted a big, bold carriage rolling into town at the base of the mountain, all in purples and blacks. it makes magnus smile, and for the first time in nearly two months, he feels himself relax a little. his family is all coming home to him.

finally, when magnus has just started to break a sweat, the carriage rolls up in front of his house and comes to a halt. magnus is grinning before he can stop himself, wiping his forehead. he’s probably smearing dirt, but he doesn't care. he never has before, so why should he now? now, when all the people he loves in the world are coming home to him.

the carriage door swings open before its harried looking driver even has a chance to step down and open it himself. taako steps out draped in what passes for relatively plain clothing for him, but would still look almost shocking on anyone else. "mags!" he yells when he spots him. "stop standing there grinning like an idiot and come help with the bags!"

magnus absolutely does not stop grinning, but he does head over to the carriage. taako hops down to the ground, and angus pops out after him, smiling just as big and broad as magnus. "hello, sir!" he announces.

magnus ruffles his hair a little harder than necessary and then turns and crushes taako in a hug. it feels— so fucking good. to have him here. to feel him, warm and real and most definitely _not_ made of stone.

"hey, dude," taako wheezes. "taako needs to breathe. let the fuck go."

so magnus does, but he grabs angus next, who is both not expecting it and also a little delighted, if the carefully stifled laughter as magnus swings him in a circle is anything to judge by. magnus laughs back, joyful and wild. _finally,_ he thinks.

"i'm getting dizzy, sir," angus says eventually, a bit faint, so magnus sets him back on the ground and turns his grin on kravitz, who has finally stepped out. he has his dreads pulled back from his face, and he's dressed in a suit, as always, crisp and gorgeous. magnus claps him on the shoulder, which he thinks kravitz maybe wasn't expecting, because he staggers a little under the force of it.

"will you not break my boyfriend?" taako says, rolling his eyes. he tosses a coin purse at the driver, who catches it wearily but deft in the middle of unpacking their bags. taako frowns then, staring magnus down with all the ferocity he knows to expect from him. "did you get everything on my list?"

"’course i did," magnus says. "it might've been easier for you to bring it yourself, you know. i had to place some very obscure orders."

"book tour, my man," taako says, and starts levitating the bags toward the house. he most certainly did not need any help with these, but magnus finds that he doesn't mind, throwing an arm around him and dropping the other hand onto kravitz's shoulder to guide them toward the house. angus hurries after them, carrying his own pack and a briefcase that is starting to not look comically big bouncing against his leg.

"please don't let him blame everything on the tour," kravitz says with a sigh. "if you let him get away with one, there'll be fifteen more to follow."

"taako's a busy dude," says the dude in question. magnus opens the door for them and taako levitates the bags inside. magnus has spent every late night for the last week cleaning, scrounging away the dust and dirt that's accumulated over his short months here. it felt a little silly at first, because no one in his family is going to care about any clutter or mess, but once he started he found he couldn't stop. when taako crosses the threshold, the house already feels a little more alive.

angus, always polite but so inquisitive, hurries across the den to steven's tank, eyes wide and reflected back at him in the glass, while taako and kravitz arrange their bags in the guest room. "your fish's lifespan is amazing, sir!" angus announces, peering at the various little rocks and plants magnus has scattered around inside. if steven notices the attention, he doesn't even begin to react to it. "a goldfish normally wouldn't live this long, sir," angus says. "i wonder if the enchantments on the tank are enhancing his quality of life?"

"it's a magic fucking fish, babe," taako says, stepping back into the den and wiping his hands on his long traveling robe. "don't go running back to lucas thinking you're gonna write a thesis on a goldfish. all those spells are taako originals, anyway, i'm not having you hand him free shit from _me._ "

"it's just natural curiosity, sir," angus says, still staring inside the tank, and taako rolls his eyes as he flops onto magnus's couch. kravitz sits next to him, proper but relaxed, magnus is grateful to see.

"all right, taako's not cooking tonight," taako announces. "long day of traveling and whatnot, so i hope you've got something half decent in, mags."

"i can find something," magnus says. it feels a little strange to sit in his armchair, when he's spent so much time lately in the deep divots in the couch where taako is laying now. "i wasn't expecting you to cook every night anyway."

"nah, lup and i'll trade off," taako says. "whenever she rolls in, that is. her creep boss wouldn't let her off work till she finished whatever job she's on, can you believe that?"

kravitz sighs again, but there's a fondness to it that magnus isn't quite used to seeing on him. every time he sees him, kravitz is a little more human, a little more animated and alive. whether that's a symptom of living with someone as bold and bright as taako, or just of existing in the land of the living, magnus doesn't know, but it looks good on him. it looks good on both of them — love.

they spend most of the afternoon in happy, companionable chitchat. they talk about taako’s new book and kravitz’s last bounty and angus’s schoolwork. taako rolls his eyes while angus shows off the new spells he’s learned, and then kravitz and angus gang up on taako to make fun of the bad publicity speeches he has to give. magnus puts on a pot of tea and taako says, “oh shit, mags, we brought back this tea from the plane of magic and you gave _got_ to try it when we don’t have underage brats around,” and angus says, “i know what drugs are, sir.”

it’s good. it’s warm and safe and magnus breaks out the alcohol a little earlier than necessary, but he's not trying to get anyone drunk — he just likes the way taako smiles a little bigger and softer, the way he lets his fingers play with the dark, thick curls of angus's hair where he's sitting on the floor in front of the couch. he likes the way kravitz couldn't get drunk even if he wanted to, but he seems to pick up on the change in the atmosphere and relaxes just enough to let magnus catch him staring at taako fondly when he isn't looking.

and... yeah. honestly? it feels kind of good to let his guard down. just a little. not— he's not being careless. he is aware of the kind of world they live in, and taako is a very... visible person. famous, bright, bold, exciting, and yeah, kind of rude sometimes. he makes enemies. magnus isn't going to get wasted and let anything happen to him, but it feels kind of nice to let the burn slide down his throat and just... laugh. it feels nice to look at taako and kravitz and angus and see them happy and comfortable with each other, and know that something good is happening, and just not _think_ about it any further than that. he doesn't need to, because for once, everything might just be okay.

magnus makes stew for dinner, which taako rolls his eyes at. "anyone can make stew," he says, and looks at kravitz and sloshes the wine in his glass and says, "chucklefuck general over here and all our dumbass pals used to bring lup 'n' me like... fucking random ass vegetables and like, a giant ass haunch of some random animal we didn't even know the _name_ of and they'd be like, 'oh, _please,_ you culinary masters, please feed us,' and it's like, okay, great. we'll make fucking stew again. we'll throw all this random shit in a pot, and you're fucking lucky that _broth_ doesn't count as like, organic matter and we can shuttle that shit around because otherwise you'd all be fucking starving tonight because you can't be assed to find us some ingredients we actually _know._ "

and then he shoves a mouthful of potato and beef in his mouth and keeps rolling his eyes, washes it down with more wine, and says, "not bad, though, bud. for a stew."

angus is very grateful, which is kind of cute except that he's not quite a teenager and so it's very earnest and very repetitive, and as much as magnus appreciates the praise, it does get a little annoying after a while. magnus will unpack why the annoyance makes him feel guilty later, he decides, after his stomach is a little less full of heavy stew and room temperature ale.

after dinner, kravitz the gentleman offers to clean up, and angus quickly enlists himself as well. boy detective looks at taako very particularly over the top rim of his glasses and says, "aren't you going to help, sir? you always say the cook shouldn't clean."

"that's my secret, ango," taako says, and tips back the last of his wine. "i'm always the cook."

eventually, he and magnus end up back in the den, taako sprawled across the couch again while magnus refills his glass. taako sniffs it and says, "this is good shit, mags."

magnus snorts into his own glass. "do you actually know literally anything about wine?" he asks.

"nah," taako says, shrugging. "gets me drunk and doesn't taste god awful, that's good shit. wine is like, the most boring fucking drink ever, my man. that dude at carey and killian's wedding? the bartender? he knew his shit. if it doesn't taste like fruit juice and _literally_ nothing else then taako doesn't want it. you would not believe how many of these rich idiots i have to schmooze up to want to talk to me about _wine._ like, i've seen literally a hundred times as much of the universe as you, and your choice of topic for conversation with me is fucking old grape juice?"

magnus laughs, easy and rolling and full. it's nice, he thinks, to be able to remember now when they all used to sit around on the nicer nights in the nicer years, and rib lucretia for her taste for wine. the rest of them were generally good with whatever was strongest (magnus, davenport, lup) or the weakest (taako, barry, merle, surprisingly enough), but lucretia had amassed some strange and eclectic knowledge of wine at some point in her background, and it was absolutely _hilarious_ how she would get two glasses in and suddenly have thirty thousand facts about _old grape juice_ to share.

every time he remembers something like that — it feels like unlocking something. it feels like something wakes up a little, like a key slotting in just right or the frame of a door creased perfectly against smooth, cured wood. it feels like another little part of him has come home.

taako, though. taako frowns, apparently remembering at the same time as magnus where that particular phrase ( _old grape juice_ ) came from. he sets his glass down on the coffee table and mutters, "cutting myself off."

and then quiet falls, for a second. magnus holds his breath, for that entire second, staring down at the wood of the coffee table, mind blank and shoulders tense— and then, through the open door to the kitchen, he hears plates clattering and water running, and kravtiz and angus speaking to each other quietly, and he lets the breath out.

"um," he says, partly just to draw taako's attention away from whatever's going on in his brain, and partly because he's thinking about locks and keys and doors now. "actually, i need to ask you a favor."

which is maybe not the best way to phrase it — taako's face darkens a little, and he looks over at magnus sharply. "what."

magnus tries not to flinch. it's been a long time since taako has looked at him like that — well, maybe not quite so long. but the last time he did, taako didn't _really_ know who he was, and also magnus wasn't even in his body, and his hands were made of wood, so. it was a different situation. but either way, it doesn't feel great to have taako stare him in the eyes and make it blatantly obvious that he's thinking, _i don't trust you._

"the— the lock on the side door," magnus says, and he can feel himself starting to stutter, which he hasn't done in a _long_ time. "sticks. um. i got a new one, but i didn't wanna install it until you were here and you could, um. work your magic?"

taako relaxes almost instantly, sinking back into the couch like a porcupine lowering its quills. "oh," he says, and if magnus didn't know him better he'd think taako sounded embarrassed. "well, yeah, duh. where's it at, homie? taako does his best magic drunk."

"debatable," kravitz says, walking back into the den with angus close behind. "taako does his most _explosive_ magic drunk." he's finally removed his jacket and he has his sleeves rolled up, and it's only because magnus looks over trying to gauge how hard taako is going to roll his eyes that he sees his reaction. he _swears_ he sees taako's pupils dilate.

"taako does explosive magic whenever the fuck he wants, babe," taako corrects, about a degree and a half off from purring. kravitz, because he's not a fucking idiot, picks up on it and goes about as pink as his unliving body will let him.

angus, thank the gods, is either blissfully unaware of the new kind of tension in the room, or otherwise has decided to just ignore it. magnus is on the floor next to the coffee table, across from taako, and angus seats himself next to him and stares at taako with those big, big eyes. "i'd very much like to watch, sir," he says, and _fuck,_ if he does know, then he is the most devious child the world has ever seen.

taako very unwillingly looks away at kravitz and frowns at angus. "agnes," he says, very seriously. "don't be a little shit."

"i would like to see you do magic, sir," angus clarifies, and magnus still can't tell if he's acting or not. this is, without a doubt, the most uncomfortable conversation he has ever had with any of them.

"why don't you go with magnus to get the lock, angus?" kravitz suggests, an uneasy smile on his face. "i need to have a brief word with taako about public displays of... anything, really."

taako opens his mouth to respond to that with something that is _guaranteed_ to be absolutely awful, and then glances back at angus and seems to think better of it. "yeah, ango," he says. "go with mango."

which is just about the best chance for magnus to flee, so he takes it.

angus follows him out to the shed, sighing. "i really did mean the magic, sir," he says, looking up at magnus with a tired, resigned look on his little face. although— not looking _up_ quite so much anymore, and his face not quite so little, either.

magnus pats him on the shoulder. "i know, kiddo," he says. and he thinks of brindle suddenly and adds, quickly, "and you don't have to call me sir, you know."

"i know," angus says glumly. "taako is helpless, isn't he?"

magnus... doesn't know what to make of that, but he's more than a little buzzed, and the whole conversation is so bizarre, he can't help but burst out laughing, full bodied and loud and echoing against the walls of the mountain. angus doesn't look particularly happy about that development, but he does eventually join in a little quieter, if only because of the absolute absurdity of the whole situation.

"i don't know about helpless," magnus says finally, when he's calmed down and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "but he's sure something, isn't he?"

when they get back, taako and kravitz are sitting two feet apart on the couch, a whole cushion between them. there are, thankfully, no buttons out of place and no obvious disturbances to the blanket draped over the back or the pillows shoved up against the armrest. taako doesn't look particularly happy, though, and when he sees magnus he holds out his hand and demands, "all right, hand it over."

magnus sets the box on the table and taako slides off the couch and onto the floor, cross legged. magnus doesn't know much about magic, but he does know that these particular spells are a weird blend of taako's transmutation magic and merle's warding spells and some little bits of illusion magic they picked up from davenport, decades ago now. they're not particularly difficult, but they do require a bit more concentration than some of the spells taako helped with in the building of the house, so magnus goes very quiet and watches him work.

kravitz and angus watch, too, and that's maybe the best part of it. magnus has seen taako do complicated spellwork about a billion times by now, but he watches taako's new family watch him work and he gets to see the slow wonder that spreads across angus's face. it's bright and curious and intense, the kind of attention that would make magnus _very_ anxious, but it's just the kind of thing that makes taako shine. taako does his best work with other people watching, feeding him energy with their attention, and it shows, here and now. the lock glows a gentle blue while taako siphons magic into it, and angus watches wide-eyed and intent like he's memorizing and cataloging all of it for later.

and kravitz— kravitz doesn't even pretend to look at the lock. maybe he figures no one will be looking at him when taako is there being taako, but he's staring, open and... loving. it's been a couple months now since magnus last saw them, and he doesn't know if anything dramatic has changed between them in that time, but he swears he didn't see this look on kravitz's face the last time they were here. he swears that kravitz's mouth didn't turn up a little and his eyes didn't get so soft around the corners. he swears he never saw kravitz drop his chin into his hand and just _smile_ at taako's profile, just out of his periphery where he won't be caught.

maybe it's that every time magnus sees kravitz, he's a little more alive, a little bigger and brighter. he spends so much time around the living now, when he's spent so long around the dead. there's probably some more complicated words and feelings to describe it, but magnus is sure that last time they were here, kravitz didn't go quite so pink when taako purposely said things to make him blush.

taako has been hurt so much. taako has _lost_ so much, and magnus doesn't think he's still really processed that he has all that back. none of them have, he thinks, but it was so deeply personal for taako. all three of them had to make something of themselves on this world, but none of the stuff that taako made for himself _stuck._ magnus has a feeling that he's gonna have a hard time shaking this one off — this family he's accidentally constructed for himself.

the magic fades. angus sits up and kravitz sits back and taako straightens and shakes himself a little, jewelry clinking quietly. he gives the lock a little prod and it shoots sparks, making them all jump, but taako just rolls his eyes and says, "behave," and the sparks sizzle out as quickly as they came.

the whole thing lasts less than a minute, but magnus feels like he's figured out a secret.

"what level spell was that, sir?" angus asks excitedly as soon as the energy has faded out of the way.

"it's kind of like a reverse knock," taako says, leaning back against the couch and into kravitz's leg. "a little out of your league for now, kid, sorry."

"i've gotten rather good with knock, actually, sir!" angus announces, and they both slip into a conversation about magic that would go over magnus's head even if he were sober, so he quietly excuses himself and carries the lock over to the side door.

"you're doing that now?" taako says, watching him go. "you're just gonna get mad at all the tiny screws and shit, i saw how much you drank."

"it won't be that hard," magnus says, and runs out quickly to grab his toolkit from the shed and gets to work. he does, admittedly, get mad at the tiny screws and shit, but it's worth it, for the little wave of relief when he slides his key in from the outside and it all turns smoothly and the door closes easy and soft without a catch.

they'll be safe, he thinks, testing the door a few more times. taako and kravitz in the guest bedroom and angus on the couch — they'll be safe. tonight, and tomorrow night, and all through to next week and to candlenights, and for as long as they stay after that. there's that strange draft in the guest room that he hasn't quite figured out, but at least he doesn't have to worry about the side door. kravitz and taako can defend themselves against whatever comes in through the walls of the bedroom, but angus is so little (not _quite_ so little anymore, but some part of him will stay little, magnus thinks, for a long time) and he might be able to cast a good knock and maybe a firebolt or a magic missile, but he's not going to be winning any spellcasting contests any time soon, and anything magnus can do to prevent those contests from happening in the first place — that's a good thing.

"hey, mags," taako calls from the couch. "stop fucking with the door and open a new bottle of wine. i found a hole in this one."

magnus closes the door and locks it, and when he's satisfied with the click he hears, he turns around and faces the room. "is the hole your mouth?" he asks.

angus frowns at that, and kravitz groans, and taako grins, wicked and brilliant. he looks at magnus from where he's carefully reclined himself back against magnus's pillows and planted his feet in kravitz's lap and says, "wouldn't you like to know?"

* * *

angus falls asleep long before the rest of them do. kravitz stops drinking earlier than taako and magnus, but it would be hard not to considering that they keep going, in small sips and careful sloshes against their mouths, until late enough that even the crickets give up chirping.

halfway through their second bottle, taako dispels the glamour on his face, which magnus thinks might be significant, might _mean_ something, if not for the fact that he’s pretty sure it’s just that taako is exhausted and very, very drunk, and keeping the spell up is harder right now.

magnus is even drunker than taako, and he knows it. by the time they give up, they’ve split most of two bottles of wine between them, and magnus has downed a good amount of ale on top of that. they must be funny, because kravitz keeps laughing at them, but magnus isn’t sure if that’s because they’re actually doing anything funny or if they’re just such massive disasters that he can’t help but laugh.

but finally, late into the night, around magnus's usual bedtime, taako groans and slumps into kravitz's lap and mumbles, "that's it. no more. i'm gonna regret this, i already know it."

"mm, yes, you are," kravitz murmurs, drawing his fingers through taako's long hair, which he's finally pulled out of his braids and let fall over them both. carefully, kravitz helps taako to the guest bedroom and the door closes. magnus can hear quiet murmuring while he picks angus up off the floor and settles him on the couch, throwing a blanket over him.

he wakes only for a moment, his eyes fluttering as magnus pulls his glasses off and sets them on the coffee table. "sir?" he mumbles, in his tiny little voice.

"bedtime, kid," magnus whispers.

angus frowns, the smallest little crease between his eyebrows. "i should put pajamas on," he says, blinking slowly.

"nah," magnus says. he resists the urge to ruffle his hair and accidentally wake him up further. "you're good, kid. go to sleep."

"okay," angus whispers, and his eyes fall shut again. he snuggles in under magnus's heavy blanket and makes a little contented noise, then goes still and quiet as his breathing evens out.

magnus does his slow sweep of the house then, checking the locks and the windows and the floorboards. it does give him peace of mind to know that he doesn't have to worry about the side door anymore, but the guest bedroom gives him pause. he can't very well go inspecting every corner of it while taako tries to drunkenly seduce kravitz to bed. on another night, he might be able to trust that they could defend themselves, but taako is well past drunk and kravitz will be distracted.

in the end, he hesitates outside the door too long, and it swings open to reveal kravitz looking surprised to find him there. "oh," he says. "taako says goodnight, and he wants me to preemptively tell you he hates you for putting so much alcohol in him."

magnus chuckles, quiet and low. "tell him i'm sorry," he says, and does his best to glance past kravitz without making it obvious.

evidently, he fails, because kravitz gives him a pained look and says, "you don't want to see. i promise. he has exactly one thing on his mind tonight, it would appear."

magnus gives him a weak smile and tries not to think about that too much. "yeah," he says. "well. um. just... i wanted to make sure you guys are comfortable."

"thank you, magnus," kravitz says. "we'll be fine. neither of us really need to sleep anyway. well, tonight, i think he probably does, but..." and he trails off with a shrug.

"yeah," magnus says, and shifts from foot to foot. "just, um, there's kind of a draft in there sometimes? so just... you know. if you need anything, i'm just down the hall."

kravitz gives him a smile like he knows what's going on, which sets magnus's entire body on edge for reasons he can't explain. "thank you, magnus," he says again, "but we really will be fine. you've been a wonderful host so far. go get some sleep. i'm sure you could use it after tonight."

an understatement of proportions kravitz can't possibly understand, magnus thinks. "okay," he says. "but really, anything you need."

"right now," kravitz says, "i need to get back to bed before my dear, loving partner accidentally ends his own life and makes my job very complicated. again. go to bed, magnus."

magnus opens his mouth to say something else, but taako groans something indistinct from inside the room, past kravitz, and he doesn't quite have the chance. kravitz gives him one last little smile before shutting the door, and then magnus is alone.

he can hear them inside, though — kravitz's smooth, even voice and taako's rippling responses. if he holds his breath and listens very, very carefully, he can hear angus shifting on the couch out in the den. it's not loud. it wouldn't even faze most people — but it makes the house feel a little bit more like home.

he lets his breath out and turns toward his own bedroom. the alcohol and food and the slow lowering of his guard has made him a little more tired than usual, and when he lays his head down he finds that his eyes drift shut of their own accord. his brain won't quite stop racing, mentally rechecking the locks and the little details of the house that he might have missed, but even that subsides eventually. the house is quiet, but every now and then he can hear taako and kravitz's voices drift to him through the walls.

he half wishes angus was just a little younger, so he could bundle him up in bed with him, so he could hear his breath next to him, easy and constant and quiet. but this will do, he thinks, as his consciousness fades in tune with the soft conversation down the hall.

when he wakes, his head is aching and the sun is streaming in around the edges of the heavy curtains hanging over his window. he can hear the birds chirping in the oak tree outside, and he rolls over heavily and sinks his face into the pillow, trying to drown it out. it's nice to hear them, he thinks, but not when his head hurts so _bad._

it takes some undefinable amount of time, drifting in and out of sleep, before it hits him — he's awake. and he _slept._ and he doesn't remember waking up, he doesn't remember any dreams, he didn't fall out of bed or bolt upright or— anything. he just... slept.

he rolls onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling. he can hear taako somewhere in the house, but whatever he says is indistinct and far away, and he can't hear the response. magnus slept through the night, and the world is still turning.

after a long time, when the pounding between his temples fades a little, he slowly drags himself out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. his stomach rolls and twists, and his headache refuses to give up all the way, but he splashes some water on his face and takes a few deep, strengthening breaths before heading out to join everyone else.

he finds them in the kitchen. kravitz is inexpertly helping angus flip pancakes while taako watches on with a sour expression, drinking something from one of magnus's mugs. angus has changed into new clothes, but kravitz is dressed in a smart, matching set of pajamas. taako is wearing an absolutely massive t-shirt advertising merle's extreme teen camp, his hair pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head and magically transmuted purple. his glamour, magnus notes, has been left off.

"you two are hopeless," taako grumbles, and takes another sip from his mug as magnus steps into the room. he glances over and eyes him up and down before snorting into his drink. "'bout time you showed yourself," he says. "hey, dude, cast iron has its place, obv, but do you seriously not own a nonstick pan? have i taught you _nothing?_ "

"good morning, sir!" angus chirps over his shoulder, glancing back away from the stove.

kravitz makes a distressed little noise and snatches the handle of the pan from his hand. "angus, _please,_ " he says. "pay attention."

"i'm sorry, sir!" angus announces, turning back to the stove. "i'm not very good at this yet, i don't think."

"don't need to tell anyone that twice, pumpkin," taako says, and sucks down some more of his drink. "tone down the squeakiness, okay? taako's nursing a hangover, and by the look of it, so's magnus."

"just a little," magnus admits, and sinks into a chair at the table. the smell of pancakes on any other morning would be wonderful — he didn't even know he _had_ anything to make pancakes, but leave it to taako to worm out some way to turn a bunch of shit ingredients into a decent meal. today, though, the thought just makes his stomach turn.

some of that thought process must show on his face, because taako rolls his eyes and waves a hand in the air, casting a mage hand toward a pot simmering on the stove. "here," he says, as the mage hand easily and elegantly tips some of the pot’s contents into a nearby mug. "you look pathetic. don't think i'll take pity on you like this again."

the mage hand deposits the mug onto the table. it's magnus's favorite one — just a simple, brown ceramic, chipped a little on the handle and well stained, but it does what it needs to do and magnus doesn't feel so bad if he accidentally breaks it like he would with some of the flashier ones he's acquired. the liquid inside, though, if it can even be called liquid, is another story.

"uh," he says, taking a sniff and instantly recoiling. "what is this?"

"taako's special stuff," taako says glumly, and takes another sip of his own mug. "hangover cure-all. trust me. those pancakes are my recipe, even if these two clowns can't quite figure it out. you don't wanna miss these, and this'll fix you right up."

magnus stares down into his mug uncertainly. "i don't remember this one," he says.

"figured that one out on the road," taako says casually, though there... _has_ to be a little more to it than that, magnus knows. taako doesn't talk about sizzle it up much anymore, even with the weight of guilt supposedly lifted off his shoulders. magnus suspects it hurts him in other ways now, but he doesn't understand it enough to bring it up, and he suspects taako would shoot him down as soon as he tried.

for now, though, he takes a leap of faith, and downs as much of taako's sludge-like concoction as his body can physically take. it doesn't actually taste as bad as it looks, but it slides down like thick molasses, and it feels like it's coating every available surface inside his body.

"yeah," taako says with a quiet chuckle as he watches magnus shiver. "does that to ya."

it does settle his stomach a little, though, and the pancakes _are_ good. angus eats so much that he has to go lie down for a little in the guest room, and kravitz does the dishes while taako and magnus bemoan their hangovers. afterwards, when angus is back up, they all take a walk together down to the city center.

it makes magnus feel kind of small, to show off his town and its relatively slow growth to big people like taako and kravitz, but kravitz looks very appreciative of all the right things. angus is excited by everything, because he is still a young child even if he's nearing his teenage years, and he follows tight to magnus's side, two steps to each of magnus's big ones.

and taako— just when magnus is sure he's about to say he's just gonna blink back up to the house and do literally _anything_ else, taako takes a look around and then his ears flick just a little bit and he says, "oh shit, farmer's market," and darts away.

so they spend the day like that, picking through the farmer's market for fresh ingredients and fun little trinkets for them to take as souvenirs, and then they head back up to the house, laden down with bags and boxes they hadn't planned on buying in the first place. when they return, magnus sits on the couch with angus and they go through the books and the little figurines he bought down in the square, until taako yells from the kitchen for angus to help him with dinner.

and then magnus and kravitz are alone in the den, and it occurs to magnus very suddenly that he hasn't been alone with the man— the grim reaper— well. ever.

kravitz is drinking some of the cider magnus has been keeping for the holiday, and magnus can't quite figure out whether he's doing that because he _needs_ to or wants to or because it makes the rest of them feel more comfortable or because he's just spent so much time around the living that he's ended up doing it out of habit. they make brief, awkward eye contact over the edge of kravitz's mug, and then they both look away quickly and magnus busies himself wrapping up angus's trinkets and souvenirs to stow away in his luggage.

the thing about kravitz is— well. they've all lost people, right? taako and lup and barry all lost their parents, before they even hopped on a ship called the starblaster and took off. davenport had a brother, he told them once, a long time ago now, who died of illness some thirty years before the mission. merle's family was large and expansive and he of course had uncles and aunts and grandparents and cousins who'd passed away.

before the mission, magnus and lucretia hadn't lost anyone before. magnus didn't speak to his parents anymore, and that was kind of a loss, but they weren't dead, they just... didn't talk. and then he got on a ship and set off into space and they all lost _everyone,_ forever, except for each other.

and then magnus forgot about all that. he lost people here, on faerun. he remembers old friends in raven's roost who died one way or another that he can't quite place now, probably half because of the drastic influx of memories he's experienced since then and half because it's been so long. and then, of course, there's steven. there's julia.

the thing is, everyone from their home world came back — everyone who wasn't dead already. magnus could go home, if he really wanted, and he could find his parents and they would know who he was, and what he did, and maybe things would be different now, but... it never really sank in, even over the hundred years on the ship, that his parents were _gone._ and now he supposes it doesn't really matter, because they're not gone anymore. but julia... julia is.

and kravitz knows her. _that's_ the thing. that's the thing about kravitz. it's the thing that hangs in the air every time magnus is in the same room as him, whether taako is draped over one or both of them or asleep on the couch or with his back turned and his nose in a slow simmering pot. magnus cannot and will not abuse that connection he has to where she is, but he also... how is he supposed to turn that away?

after a long, awkward silence while magnus tries to figure out what to do, kravitz says, softly, "you've built something good here, magnus."

magnus sits up a little straighter from his position on the floor in front of the couch. he has a little bound notebook with a fake leather cover in his hands that angus bought down in the square, and he can't help fiddling with it now. "yeah?" he says tentatively.

kravitz breathes out slowly and audibly and visibly and lets his mug come to rest in his lap. "yes," he says. "there was a lot of death here. it's good to see it fill up with life again."

"oh," magnus says. "yeah. i mean... that's kind of what i'm trying to do. just help them... get back there. you know?"

kravitz nods. "i'm sure you've been told before that you don't need to atone for... well, everything, so i won't tell you that," he says. "not least because it would probably get me in trouble with my boss, who i’m sure doesn’t agree with me on the subject. but if you _do_ feel that there are things you need to atone for... i think this is a good way to do it."

"oh," magnus says again. "well, thanks?"

kravitz sighs and glances toward the kitchen, very quickly like he's afraid he'll be caught, and then looks back at magnus and has a sort of pleading expression on his face. "look," he says. "don't tell him i told you this. i'm serious. _don't_ tell him."

"um," magnus says. "okay?"

kravitz looks for a very long time like he's debating it, and then finally says, "taako's been kind of worried about you."

magnus can't help it — he barks a single short laugh. kravitz doesn't seem overly put out or upset by this, but he does stare at magnus very seriously, until magnus feels embarrassed for laughing and quickly sobers and clears his throat. "um," he says. "he has? i mean, i love him, but taako's not really... the worrying type."

"no, he's not," kravitz agrees. "and no doubt he won't mention it to you, but you were all... well, your family was all together for a very long time. taako doesn't do extraordinarily well on his own, much as i think he might prefer it that way. he is quite possibly the most introverted celebrity i've ever met in my many years of existence, which i think makes him worry for the more extroverted people he knows."

magnus chews that over for a moment. "i'm not sure i follow," he admits.

kravitz leans forward and sets his mug on the coffee table. "you're alone up here," he says.

"i mean..." magnus shrugs. he can't very well argue with that when it's kind of the main thing that's been keeping him up at night for the last few months, but it feels wrong and uncomfortable to admit it to anyone else. "yeah," he says, "i guess. but there's... i mean, there's all kinds of people rolling into town. and everyone's coming home for candlenights anyway. and i can take care of myself."

"well, yes," kravitz says, "but it's not you getting attacked that he's worried about."

well doesn't _that_ just make magnus worry. taako has to know how visible they are, as people in the world. he can't not know that there are targets painted on all of their backs. magnus fiddles with angus's notebook for a moment, and then says, "so what _is_ he worried about?"

"when's the last time you were alone, magnus?" kravitz asks.

very suddenly, magnus doesn't like this conversation. it echoes the ones he's had with himself just a little too closely. he's _fine._ so he likes to have people around, so it helps him sleep better when he knows his family is nearby and safe — that's normal. there's nothing wrong with that. he just has some trouble sleeping, what does it matter to taako? taako's never worried about anyone else before, why start now? and he doesn't need to bring his _boyfriend,_ the literal _grim reaper,_ into it. if he thinks that kravitz's vague position of authority is going to affect things, then he doesn't know absolutely anything about magnus at all.

kravitz seems to sense how magnus bristles at the comment, because he holds up his hands in a calming gesture. "it doesn't need to be a whole big thing," he says. "you seem to be doing very well for yourself here. taako won't even say that he's worried, i can just... tell. from the way he talks about it. he _was_ excited to come here for the holiday. please don't take this the wrong way."

magnus tries to force down some of the defensiveness, but there's still a little taste of it at the back of his throat. they're his family, he tells himself. of course they're going to worry. doesn't magnus worry when taako takes off to other planes for his book tour? it's not as if taako is ever traveling alone, or like he couldn't defend himself if it came down to it, and magnus still worries anyway, so it shouldn't be _that_ surprising that taako worries, too, but still.

"it's not—" he cuts himself off and looks down at angus's notebook. "i'm not upset that he's worried. it's not... about that."

"you've always been their protector, haven't you?" kravitz says. "we spend a great deal of time with lup and barry, and they seem to share similar sentiments. they just want to make sure that you're being taken care of, too."

oh great, magnus thinks. lup and barry are in on it, too. well, davenport is a serial worrier, so he's sure to get dragged in as soon as he arrives, and no doubt they'll get carey roped in, and then killian and most likely lucretia will follow, if she and taako can stand to be in the same room for long enough to agree on this. magnus is going to have to spend every second of this holiday with merle just to escape his family's baseless, unnecessary worry.

"well," he says, and he tries so, _so_ hard not to sound bitter, because it's not kravitz's fault. "you can tell them i'm fine. or taako can figure it out himself, since he's here and he can see it."

"no one's worried that you're going to get drastically hurt or anything, magnus," kravitz says. "it's been a long time since i had a family, but i think this is just what families do."

which— that's fair. magnus can't blame anyone for that, because he can't help his own worry about them. he just doesn't want them assuming anything, or trying to _help,_ because he doesn't _need_ it.

but— it's not kravitz's fault. it really isn't. so magnus forces himself to take a deep breath and sets angus's notebook down on the table, and he looks up and smiles at kravitz. "you're probably right," he says. "i guess it's just kind of weird to have them turn it around on me."

kravitz smiles back, thin but sincere. "believe me," he says. "i understand. i spend a great deal of time contemplating other people's mortality. i've had people contemplating _mine_ in recent months, and i still haven't quite adjusted to that."

which is as nice a segue back into normal conversation as possible, so magnus politely asks how _has_ work been going for them, and it must be so weird to work with people who have broken so many of the laws he's worked to uphold, and it must be especially weird to work with his boyfriend's sister, and kravitz lets himself be distracted from the topic.

it's a better segue than bringing up julia, magnus supposes, but he suddenly has a hard time meshing together the grim reaper who can carry his messages to the woman he loves and the man who sleeps in the same bed as taako and who angus has almost called _dad_ accidentally about three times since they got here.

eventually, taako calls them for dinner and they eat some elaborate pasta dish that magnus couldn't begin to explain but that tastes absolutely amazing, of course, as always. after dinner, magnus and kravitz clean up while taako throws spaghetti at angus in the background.

in a very deliberate choice, taako and magnus opt away from the alcohol and taako stirs up a big heavy pot of hot cocoa for them all — and even cleans the pot himself once it's been served. magnus gets a fire going in the fireplace, and they all sip together in the den. taako cuddles up under kravitz's arm and pulls a blanket over them both, and angus curls up in magnus's armchair and reads while the adults talk. he falls asleep early, his mug empty and leaning against his chest, his book slipping from his fingers and flipping shut in his lap.

taako sighs when he sees this and mage hands the mug out of angus's hand and a blanket over his little body. "this is the problem with having kids around," he says. "you absolutely cannot have fun after like, nine pm."

kravitz smiles and presses a little kiss to taako's temple. "and yet," he says, "you haven't kicked him out yet."

"i kick him out every time that idiot he calls a _university dean_ starts up classes again," taako says flatly. "i'll kick him out again in a month."

kravitz closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the spot where he just kissed him, the smile still faint across his mouth. "ah yes," he says. "that's more like the taako i know, only sending the kid off every time he's got another adult who can safely watch over him."

"there is _nothing,_ " taako says sharply, "absolutely _nothing,_ about lucas miller's complete _joke_ of a school that is _safe._ the man is a walking disaster. have you _read_ his class summaries?"

kravitz chuckles quietly and glances over at magnus, winking just once. "you're right," he says. "it's a good thing you never worry about anyone but yourself."

taako looks over at magnus too then, and frowns, and then pulls away from his boyfriend just enough to frown at him, too. "what stupid ideas have you been getting in your head?" he demands. "i have got to stop letting you hang out with my sister."

"i have no idea what you mean," kravitz says, as sincerely as possible, and then gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "we probably should let angus have the couch. and you could probably do with some real sleep, after last night."

"i have no idea what that means," taako says, but he stands up anyway, taking the blanket with him. "but i will let you pretend that you only said the first thing, about the kid."

"very gracious," kravitz says. he also stands, and then he and magnus very generously look away while taako lifts angus and moves him to the couch — and doesn't even spare a levitate for the process.

when angus is safely tucked away under a blanket and his head rests on two carefully fluffed pillows, kravitz sweeps an arm around taako's waist and looks over at magnus. "sorry to leave you so early," he says. "you could probably do with the sleep, too."

"i think you said the same thing last night," magnus says, offering kravitz a smile. it's no less true tonight, he supposes, even with the full nearly ten hours he banked the night before.

"i think your entire family could do with a little more sleep," kravitz says dryly, and shoots taako a look, who just rolls his eyes like this is a conversation they've had far too many times.

"fair enough," magnus admits. "g'night, guys."

they disappear down the hall, then, leaving magnus alone in the den with sleeping angus and with bubbling steven and with the fire crackling low and quiet in the fireplace. it's too early for him to sleep, he knows. he's tired, for sure, it's been a long day of walking and talking and certainly it's no more physically exhausting than his average day, but he is tired and he does need to sleep. but he also knows that if he lays down now he'll just be staring at the ceiling for hours.

it is a relief, though, to know that when he _does_ slide under the covers, sleep will come. his family is nearby, and safe, and he can close his eyes and— maybe he'll dream. maybe it will be a _good_ dream. it's strange to think about, and it's even stranger to think about how quickly this insomnia has become normal for him, but... not tonight. tonight his family is here, and tonight he will sleep.

but he has several hours before his body will be willing to give up, so for now he picks up one of his small projects stowed in a chest by steven's tank and pulls out his knife and goes to work. it was meant to just be a horse, when he started, but luckily he hadn't done too much work on the head, and there's still enough to work with to block out two horns.

he works for a long time, until the fire burns so low that the only real light left is coming from steven's tank, which is comfortable and familiar by this point. only once he realizes how late it's gotten does he set down his work and tamp out the fire. he checks on angus, tucks him back in and makes sure he's comfortable. he checks on steven, who is fine, as always, but bubbles at him cheerfully as he swirls around the tank. he checks the front door, and the windows on either side, and the side door, and the windows in the kitchen, and—

he pauses at the door to the guest bedroom, trying to keep his heavy footsteps light and silent like carey taught him. if he holds his breath, he can just barely make out the sound of quiet breathing inside, and maybe the occasional stir, but other than that, everyone seems to be safely asleep.

he lets out a heavy breath and then heads for his own room. he changes into loose, comfortable pajamas and checks that railsplitter and the chance lance and the sword are carefully stowed away, and then he pulls the curtains tight over the window, once he's sure it's shut and locked properly. and then, finally, he climbs into bed and pulls the sheets up to his chest and lays his head on the pillow.

he closes his eyes. he rests his hands over his chest, fingers laced, and traces the edge of his wedding ring. he can't hear taako and kravitz down the hall, but he knows they're there, and his body feels light and his mind is untroubled. angus is safe in the den, wrapped up in a warm blanket on the couch. steven is happy.

he lets out a slow breath between his lips. he blinks a couple times, rubs at his eyes, rolls onto his side. he spreads a hand wide across the spot where julia would have lain, and he closes his eyes again and imagines tangling their fingers together and pulling her close. he grabs a pillow and cuddles it close to his chest, buries his face in it.

... and nothing happens.

he waits a few long minutes, then flops onto his other side, but that feels... wrong, so he flips back over. he stretches the muscles in his back, opens his eyes just a little and stares at the darkened wall across from him. nothing happens.

he closes his eyes again. his pajamas suddenly feel too tight around the waist and too tangled around his feet. with a bit of careful wiggling, he shimmies out of his pants and kicks them off the edge of the bed, then sighs heavily and rests back against the bed again. and— nothing happens.

it doesn't make sense. it doesn't make _sense._ he slept last night. taako and kravitz and angus are here, and they're safe, and they all had a good day and magnus was happy and everyone was happy and everyone was _safe._ he can't hear them, sure, but that's— that's not fair. that can't be a requirement to sleep. and sure, there was a decent amount of alcohol involved last night, but magnus is cognizant enough of where that leads to be wary of turning to that now.

he should be asleep right now. he should have been drifting off in his chair in the den, watching angus sleep while the fire crackled in the background. he should be _tired,_ but instead... instead his body just feels _heavy,_ not like it did just a few minutes ago, when he knew everyone was safe and happy and everything felt right.

it doesn't feel right anymore. he suddenly burns with the need to get up and check the locks again. maybe this is his body telling his mind that it missed something — maybe he accidentally unlocked something he meant to lock, maybe one of the windows wasn't shut quite as tight as he thought, maybe he didn't put the fire out all the way—

he tosses back the sheets and quickly tugs his pajama pants back on as the makes his way back out to the den. his heart is beating a little faster now, and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears, reminding him suddenly of the heat and thrall of battle—

but when he reaches the den, there's nothing. the fire has been thoroughly stamped out. angus is asleep, his breathing and rest undisturbed by the pounding in magnus's chest that's so _loud_ it has to be audible beyond just his own ears. angus’s book is on the coffee table, his glasses are resting on top of the book. his little hand has slipped out of the blanket and is dangling down over the edge of the couch, but magnus's heart doesn't calm down even when he's tucked angus's arm back in under the blanket.

he gives him one careful pat on the shoulder, then hurries back down the hall. he shouldn't do this, really, but he has to be sure, he just has to check. he eases the door open slowly and as quiet as possible, mindful of the spot where it creaks. he holds his breath, and peeks inside.

it's dark, so he can't quite see, but he can certainly make out two horizontal forms on the bed, wrapped tightly around each other. they don't stir, but he watches long enough to see slow, easy, even shifting of the blankets over one of the forms, and knows that he's breathing. biting his lip hard, magnus slowly shuts the door again.

and then he's alone in the hall, and everyone is safe, and his heart is still pounding, and he's never going to get to sleep now.

he walks slowly back to his room, but as soon as he puts his hand on the doorknob he knows it's useless. he's been through this enough times to know. laying in bed staring at the wall will only make it worse. there's no point in fighting it now.

so he heads back out to the den, and picks up the rough looking binicorn he'd been working on, and his knife and his tools, and he sits heavily back down in the chair. he does feel a little better with something in his hands, and with angus right _there._ taako and kravitz can take care of themselves, he supposes, but angus is probably the one who needs him the most, in general. he puts knife to wood and tries to tune out everything around him except the work in his hands and angus's quiet breathing.

eventually, hours later, he does start to get tired. his eyelids aren't quite drooping, but angus's soft little sleep noises are reassuring and settling. his body is heavy like it's close to sleep, but his mind won't quite catch up.

he doesn't bother fighting — whatever happens will happen. either he sleeps tonight, or he doesn't. it doesn't really matter either way anymore.

* * *

he jerks awake before the sun is up, but not by much. he has no idea what time he fell asleep. angus is still on the couch, though he's flopped over onto his back and is snoring very, very quietly. there is no sound of stirring anywhere else in the house.

wooden garyl is still in his hands. he sets him down on the coffee table and picks up his knife from where it fell to the floor and finds it a spot next to garyl on the table. he gets up and sweeps around the house slowly and carefully and— well, exhausted. he doesn't feel good. his body is heavy and demanding more rest, but he can't remember the last time he woke up and was able to fall back asleep, and he doesn't think the mental exhaustion is worth packing on top of the physical stuff.

he goes into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee on one burner and a pot of tea on the other. he has no idea what kravitz drinks, but he knows angus probably shouldn't have caffeine and taako will attack him if _someone_ doesn't have coffee going before he makes himself up for the day. magnus doesn't normally drink either in the morning, but today he thinks he needs it.

angus does eventually stumble into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and looking much smaller than usual. "good morning, sir," he says, sliding into one of the chairs around the table and blinking sleepily at magnus. "is that tea?"

"i have no idea what kind it is," magnus admits, pulling the pot off the stove and shutting off the burner. "someone else must have left it here at some point."

"that's fine, sir," angus says while magnus carefully pours him a cup. "thank you very much."

"you talk like you're awake already," magnus says, and can't help smiling, as shitty as he feels right now. angus is just so grown up, even if his body hasn't quite caught up with his mind and his maturity.

"i am awake, sir," angus says, looking a little confused, and... well. he's not _that_ grown up.

magnus pours himself some coffee and settles down at the table, and the two of them sit in comfortable silence. magnus should probably start breakfast, he thinks. they should all eat, really. angus needs to, for sure. taako may or may not decide to, and kravitz probably doesn't need to, but magnus... definitely should, judging by how sluggish he feels even with half his cup of coffee in him, but the thought of food puts him a little on edge. maybe something light, he thinks, but he has a feeling taako would protest anyone being fed _toast_ under the same roof as him.

he doesn't have the energy for anything more than that, though. it's been a while since the exhaustion has hit this hard, and of course it had to do this while his family is in town, but there's not much he can do about it now. "how's toast sound?" he asks angus.

"that sounds very good, sir," angus says. "i don't think anyone should put themselves out too much just for breakfast. taako always makes pancakes when i come home from school, but only once. i think big breakfasts are better for special occasions."

"breakfast is the most important meal of the day," magnus reminds him. he should tell him things like that, shouldn't he? he should give him good advice. magnus isn't really sure what good advice is, but he should be teaching young people things like that, he thinks.

"oh yes, of course it is," angus says. "and i always eat breakfast, but it's a little much to expect everyone to always wake up early and have lots of energy already to cook a big breakfast when the whole point of breakfast is to give you energy. you should always eat something in the morning, but i think it's okay if it's small. that's better than nothing at all."

magnus doesn't— he doesn't know what to say to that. angus doesn't know what he’s thinking, of course he doesn't, but magnus suddenly can't quite make eye contact with him. he looks down at the table, at his old, worn mug with the chipped handle, and he doesn't know how to answer this twelve year old boy and his very astute observations.

"yeah," he says finally. "yeah, that sounds like a pretty good thought, ango."

"thank you, sir," angus says. he sips his tea, holding his mug with both hands. "do you have any jam? i like my toast with strawberry, if you have it."

magnus can't quite help laughing at that. it's such an absurd moment, sitting here feeling like he just had his mind read by a twelve year old, and he doesn't know how to handle it. angus is such a _good_ fucking kid. magnus has no idea what to do with him.

"i dunno if i have strawberry, kiddo," he says, standing up and feeling... just the smallest bit better. "but i bet if you butter taako up real good when he wakes up, he'll find a way to make that happen."

"he doesn't like to spend spell slots first thing in the morning," angus says ruefully. "but i suppose it's worth a shot."

taako does finally make himself known about an hour later, kravitz trailing after him, after magnus and angus have given up waiting for him and have settled for the raspberry jam in magnus's fridge. taako hasn't even put his glamour on, and he looks tired and bitchy and magnus has spent enough time around him to know better than to talk to him right now. the coffee on the stove isn't hot enough anymore, but taako flips the burner back on and sinks into a chair, glaring tiredly into the air.

"ah," kravitz says, peering into the other pot on the stove. "is this green?"

magnus's mouth is half full of toast at the moment, and he glances sideways at angus, who shrugs. "i ha' no i'ea," magnus says, or tries to say, and angus giggles at the crumbs that spray across the table, and taako heaves a sigh like these are the absolute worst people in the world. magnus can't help laughing, too, and he remembers only belatedly to cover his mouth, and then he and angus are both laughing, and kravitz looks confused, and taako looks murderous.

it wasn't a great night — but it's an okay morning.

* * *

the weight of exhaustion doesn’t fade easy, though. magnus moves through the day slowly, but luckily no one seems particularly in the mood to go out and do anything. they relax in the den for most of the day, talking about taako’s tour and angus’s classes and some of the less gristly stories of kravitz’s work.

if anyone notices the grateful, tired, familiar way that magnus sinks into his spot on the couch, the way that he can’t quite bring himself to jump up and do things, they don’t say anything. magnus spends most of the day with his wooden garyl in his hands, and it helps take his mind off things a little. he can’t fully remember every bit of the conversations they have, but he must ask the right questions and laugh at the right things and tell the right stories, because no one calls him on anything.

he begins to flag a little harder as the light outside wanes, though. taako makes them rice and beans and hearty hunks of meat, charred and crispy on the outside and perfectly tender and flavorful on the inside. afterwards, angus hops up to turn on the water and get it nice and hot for the dishes, and magnus slowly pushes himself to his feet to help.

next to him, taako makes a little noise like he’s clearing his throat, and kravitz jerks suddenly in his seat and gets up. “i’ll help angus, magnus,” he says, carefully smoothing the front of his immaculate dress shirt. “you and taako need time to catch up.”

“no, no,” magnus says wearily, though the thought of sitting down right now sounds just… absolutely wonderful. “that’s not fair. we’ve been catching up all day. and i’m the host, and you’ve done dishes every day since you got here…”

"i must insist," kravitz says, and he gives magnus a polite little smile, a formal kind of thing that magnus has no idea what to do with.

"c'mon, big boy," taako says, standing himself now and grabbing magnus by the sleeve. "show me your wood."

"i'm going to assume you mean my woodworking projects," magnus says warily, but he lets himself be pulled towards the den. the whole thing is a little strange, but as guilty as he feels for not giving kravitz a night off from dishes, he can't quite find it in him to fight it anymore than he has. he's just so fucking tired.

"i'll let you think whatever you want," taako says as they round the couch and he flops down in magnus's spot. "all right, so show!"

so magnus shows him, pulling out his little fisher and junior, his tiny starblaster and a couple of dogs, a good armful of ducks in various shapes and sizes, and, of course, garyl. taako looks patiently uninterested the majority of the time, which isn't a huge surprise, but he _did_ ask to see, so magnus tries not to let himself feel too bad about it. he does smile at garyl though, taking him into his hands and inspecting his little horns before handing him back and saying, "not bad, bud."

after kravitz and angus have finished the dishes, taako gets up abruptly and sweeps into the kitchen. the den falls into comfortable conversation, until taako comes back with a tray of hot cocoa and passes out their mugs. magnus's has been poured into his favorite, chipped handle and all, and he can't help smiling gratefully as he takes it. taako stares at him hawk-like, daring him to say anything.

the night wears on, and magnus finds himself drifting from the conversation. taako and kravitz and angus talk in soft, gentle tones, and their voices become a quiet background for him. he picks up garyl to put in a few finishing touches, but the exhaustion of the day seems to have caught up to him, because he finds suddenly that his hands don't quite want to do what he wants them to.

he sets garyl back down, and when he looks up, taako is watching him. it's almost surreptitious, his head turned towards kravitz like he's paying attention, but his eyes are fixed on magnus. it's a strange little moment, but taako doesn't look away — their eyes meet for a few seconds and magnus gives him a little smile, which taako doesn't return.

the next time he fully is aware of himself, he's... floating? his body is both heavy and weightless, and the halls of his house move past him slowly, and he tries to turn his head but his muscles don't quite respond the way he wants them to.

a dream, then. not surprising, given how exhausted he's been all day, but his dreams are rarely so... not peaceful, exactly, but at the very least non-malevolent. he lets the sleep take him, and he floats slowly into his bed. it's quite possibly the strangest dream he's had since all of this started.

"i'm not doing this again," taako says, and magnus opens his mouth to ask him what he means, but his tongue won't work.

"i know," kravitz murmurs. "it's okay. he's all right. come to bed."

"he needed this," taako says, but it sounds more like a question, like a plea for validation.

"he did," kravitz says. "taako, it's fine. let him sleep now. no one's hurt. you didn't hurt anyone, come with me to bed."

"you think he'll be mad?" and that's definitely taako speaking, but this is how magnus knows for sure that this is a dream, because he's only heard taako speak in that tone in hushed whispers on the other side of a locked door, tucked away with lup in their room on the starblaster. that tone like he's scared, like he's uncertain, and taako doesn't get _scared._ taako is never uncertain of _himself._

"he won't even remember," kravitz says, and there's a moment of quiet. then, "please, taako. we can talk about this in the morning, sweetheart. let's go to bed now."

"yeah," taako says, soft, a little raspy, and there's the sound of a door clicking, and everything goes very still and quiet.

magnus doesn't like it. his dreams are never quiet or still — they're raging and smoldering and shouting. he doesn't want the quiet in his _dreams,_ just when he's finally gotten to sleep. it puts him on edge worse than usual, and now he can't even move, he can't even get up. he can't remember if he checked the house before he fell asleep, but if he doesn't remember going to bed then he almost certainly didn't check. taako is smart, taako will have checked, but will he know to check the thin wall in the den? will he know to turn all the locks twice, just to be _sure?_

his sleep grows fitful, and he whines a little, low in his throat. it feels startlingly real, which is... upsetting. if he could just rouse himself enough to break out of sleep and go _check—_

but eventually, sleep takes him fully. when next he is aware, julia is stroking his cheek and smiling down at him, but she's whispering, "i'm sorry, magnus. i'm so sorry," and her hand is lucretia's, but it's taako's, but it's kravitz's, and kravitz says, "i'm sorry, magnus."

"no," magnus whispers. "not yet. not now." he's drifting away from his body. he can see merle and taako, and he _knows_ them, he knows who they are, he knows who _he_ is, and he knows who is inside taako's staff, he knows why lucretia sent them here, and he knows that red robed figure, and he can't go yet. he can't leave them alone. he has to protect them.

"you weren't supposed to see this," kravitz says, lucretia says. "just lie down, it'll be okay. i'll fix everything."

"no," magnus says, stronger this time. " _i'll_ fix it. i can do it. let me help them!"

julia's smile swirls in kravitz's big, dark mirror, and she says something indistinct, something he can't hear. he reaches for her, and then merle's fingers tangle in the back of his shirt, and taako's, and they're pulling him back. he can't fight them, he can't pull away from them, but if he could just reach julia, if he could just grasp her hand—

"shh," julia whispers, and they're in their bed, and she leans over him in the middle of the night. "it's all right. it's okay. you're awake now." and she holds him and kisses his forehead, and after a while she says, "tell me about the nightmare."

"taako didn't check the locks," magnus says. he grips her hand as tight as possible. maybe that way, when merle and taako drag him back, he can pull her with him. they would like her, he thinks. maybe she can help them help lucretia.

"well that's a strange dream," julia says. "who's taako?"

and he wakes — for real this time, and he knows because there's sweat coating his body and he can't breathe. he's shaking, and he can hear every desperate, pounding beat of his heart, like the drums in cycle 22, whatever plane that was. he can't breathe, his lungs and his chest have all contracted down to a fraction of their capacity, and his tongue is heavy and weighty and he can't _breathe—_

he rolls over, desperate to get up. he trips once, the blankets tangling around his feet as he stumbles out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. he slams the door open a little harder than necessary, but he's struggling to stay upright as it is.

he just barely makes it to the bathroom in time, and then doubles over on his knees in front of the toilet and retches. he's no stranger to this position, but it feels worse than usual. he didn't even _drink_ last night.

" _fuck,_ " he hears behind him, in taako's voice, but he can't find the energy to wave him off. he'll be fine in a minute, he just needs to—

"oh, gods, _fuck,_ " taako says again, a little more panicked this time. "hey, mags, i— fuck! okay, just stay there. i'll be right back. don't— don't choke on your own vomit, okay? fuck, i'll be right back!"

magnus can't tell taako that he couldn't move if he tried right now, so he just keeps throwing up instead. that's all he needs to do anyway. once it's out, he'll just sit down, and drink some water, and... fuck, crawl back to bed, he supposes. he's fairly certain alcohol doesn't have a delayed reaction like this, but what the hell does he know?

taako comes back eventually, maybe a minute and maybe an hour later. "hey," he says, voice high and anxious, and magnus doesn't like that tone on him. taako shouldn't sound like that.

"'m good," magnus tries to say, but it comes out muffled and a little strangled.

"yeah, bud, sure," taako agrees. "here, sit back, got you some water."

magnus groans, but he does as taako says and lets him bring a glass to magnus's lips and help him drink. but whatever it is that hits his tongue — it's not water. it's oily and smells horrible, and he tries to pull away but taako pinches his nose and fuck, _fuck,_ he's still dreaming. this isn't taako, this is another desperate, fucked up ploy by his mind to try to take him out.

he's too weak to fight him off, but after a moment not-taako pulls away and magnus's whole body revolts against him and he doubles forward again, vomiting rough and awful into the toilet bowl. not-taako whispers something behind him, and there's a cold, icy touch to the back of his neck that feels so good it makes him sob in between heaves.

after a long, long time, the vomiting subsides and he's left leaning over the bowl, panting hard and just trying to breathe. not-taako has his fingers threaded through his hair, soothing away the sweat. magnus shouldn't let that happen, but all the strength has left his body completely.

"oh dear," kravitz says — or not-kravitz? magnus can't keep track anymore. he didn't even know he was in the room.

"krav," not-taako says, and he sounds so fucking _distressed._ "i didn't— i was trying to _help._ "

"oh, sweetheart," kravitz says. "come on. let's get him cleaned up."

"i was trying to help," taako says again.

“i know, dear,” kravitz says. not-taako’s cold hands pull away from him and then kravitz is there, with his even colder hands on magnus’s shoulders. he can feel their ice straight through his sweat-soaked shirt, and it’s hard not to lean into that even as uncertain and on edge as he is right now.

“come on, magnus,” kravitz says. “let’s get you back to bed.” between him and not-taako, they somehow manage to get magnus to his feet, and the world swirls around him and the pain of repeated heaving sets into his stomach — and it’s about at this point that magnus realizes he is, in fact, awake.

“taako?” he says, wary.

“only for you, bud,” taako says, which… yeah. that’s taako.

they stumble back to magnus’s bedroom and then taako disappears back out the door, leaving kravitz and magnus alone with a heavy layer of tension between them. magnus is too tired to unpack any of that, so he just lets himself slowly fall back onto the bed, curling up on his side and rubbing at his ribs.

“um,” kravitz says, which is probably the most uncomposed magnus has ever heard him sound. "do you... you probably want to change? i'll just..."

magnus groans, because he can't quite muster the strength to answer that, let alone contemplate the exact reason that this scenario has become so uncomfortable. kravitz chuckles a little nervously and half turns toward the dresser pushed up against the wall, but thankfully taako re-enters then, a wet cloth in hand.

"scootch, big guy," he says, and his tone is that of his usual confidence and flair, but his actual voice is quieter and softer than normal. magnus does his best to wiggle out of the way, and taako sits down next to him and starts wiping his face, slow and careful.

there's a long few minutes of silence, but magnus feels significantly better with the sweat cleared from his face and a few minutes of no full body paralysis or nightmares or intense vomiting. when he finally finds the energy, he pushes himself upwards and tugs his shirt over his head. taako gives him a pat on the shoulder and fetches him a new one, while kravitz hangs in the doorway and says nothing.

when he's reclothed in something a little less disgusting, magnus looks down at his hands, feeling all eyes on him, and clears his throat, a little rough. "um," he says. "i didn't wake you guys up, did i?"

"wasn't sleeping, bud," taako says. "don't worry about it."

magnus takes in a deep breath and then lets it out through his teeth. "okay," he says. "i'm sorry. i don't— i don't know what happened. just... a really bad dream, i guess."

"yeah," taako says, and his voice is flat and dry. "no kidding."

"taako," kravitz says.

taako shoots him a glare, but looks away quickly and down at his lap. it's— it's very un-taakolike. he looks— uncertain? scared? it's the kind of expression magnus hasn't seen on him in a very long time, not since some night on the starblaster, he thinks, those first nights after lup disappeared, after just enough time had passed that they couldn't... that it started to look like she wasn't coming back.

"taako?" magnus says, softly. "hey. i'm fine. i... you know how it is. shit's weird these days, right? we went through a lot. it was just, um. you know. a nightmare. a pretty, uh, intense one, but... i'm okay. really."

taako chokes out a laugh suddenly and then, without looking up, reaches over and drops the wet rag in magnus's hands. "yeah," he says. "yup. bad dream. get those a lot, my dude?"

"taako," kravitz says again, quieter this time.

"it's okay," magnus says, giving him a small smile, but kravitz doesn't look assuaged. he looks back at taako and shrugs. "i dunno," he says. "it happens, you know? it's really not a big deal. we all get them — i mean. those of us who sleep do, i guess? i mean, i figure. it's fine. i mean it."

he can feel the faintest heat creeping back up his neck, but it's embarrassment this time, rather than the urge to be violently sick. he really, _really_ doesn't want taako thinking he should have done something about this, and it's clear that this isn't a conversation he wants to be having. not that magnus is surprised — this kind of thing is better left to lup, he thinks, who's always been better at the more... personable stuff. and beyond that — magnus doesn't need help. he doesn't need _taako's_ help, not when taako still has so much he's dealing with. magnus is the picture of mental health, compared to that.

taako looks up finally, staring him in the eyes, and magnus gives him the softest, most reassuring smile he can, even though he knows taako probably won't accept it, let alone return it. there's a beat, then—

"i put some shit in your cocoa," taako says.

magnus feels the smile fall and turn into a frown. "uh," he says. "the marshmallows?"

"no, doofus," taako says, but he doesn't roll his eyes and there's no big dramatic sweep of his arms or his voice. "not the marshmallows."

"um," magnus says. "okay?"

"i put some shit in your cocoa," taako says again, a little louder now, "because ango said you didn't sleep last night, and you slept like a fucking rock the night before, so i— i wanted to help. stupid human needs his stupid sleep, yeah?"

magnus takes a long second to think about that — about the look on taako's face when he handed him his favorite mug, about the strange dream of floating down the hallway to his bed, about taako's voice mumbling, _i wanted to help._ he takes a second to think about taako handing him a cup of cocoa, spiked with sleeping powder or that tea he brought with him, and he thinks about taako making sure he's safe in bed, and then— finding him the way that he did. he thinks about taako handing him something to eat and then finding him later, violently sick and— taako was trying to _help._

"oh gods, taako," magnus says, and he should maybe be embarrassed that his voice breaks a little. taako shrinks back from him, and oh, _gods,_ what the _fuck?_

"taako," magnus says, a little quieter, and he reaches out and grabs him by the shoulders, and taako flinches, and magnus feels so bad, he feels so fucking _guilty,_ but he has to make sure he knows, he has to make sure taako _understands,_ and he says, "taako, i'm so fucking sorry."

taako stares at him. he can feel kravitz staring at him, too, but he can't look away from taako right now, not with the shame and the embarrassment and the guilt churning away in his stomach. taako opens his mouth, shuts it, tilts his head just a little to the side, frowns. "... come again?" he says.

"i'm so _sorry,_ taako," magnus says. "please, don't— i can't imagine what that felt like for you. i know you don't like talking about it, but i don't... i don't want this to hurt you. taako, i'm so sorry."

taako just... keeps staring at him, his eyes strangely and carefully blank. he finally breaks the eye contact, only to turn and look at kravitz, who stares back at him with an expression that magnus absolutely cannot read. when taako turns back to magnus, he stares him dead in the eyes again and says, "hey, dude? what the fuck?"

"what?" magnus says, and he feels his spine tense a little. did he read this wrong? that thought can't _not_ have crossed taako's mind, can it? he can't _not_ have thought about— about glamour springs, about the way he found magnus, about how those things... line up.

"are you for real?" taako says. "i fucking poison you, and you're apologizing to me?"

"you didn't _poison_ me," magnus says, and resists the urge to roll his eyes only because he knows taako isn't thinking completely straight right now. "you were trying to help. you said it yourself."

"yeah," taako says, his voice flat and sharp again. "i was trying to help, and then i found you fucking dying, and i had to poison you a second time to get you to throw it up and _stop_ being poisoned."

"that's not fair," magnus protests. "you were helping! i just— i wasn't sleeping great, i dunno, maybe my body just... it just reacted badly, because of that, i don't know. weird shit happens when you're sleeping, right? you were just trying to help. i mean, you weren't wrong, i probably needed to sleep anyway, and how were you gonna know? you didn't—"

"yeah, exactly!" taako says, and he's standing now, and his face is twisted and fierce. "how was i gonna fucking know that would happen? so i shouldn't have fucking done it. i cannot believe you're trying to apologize to me right now. i fucked up, mags, okay? not super easy for me to admit that, i think you know, so like... just fucking take the apology."

"not if you're not gonna take mine," magnus says, shaking his head. "you just wanted to help."

taako barks a laugh and crosses his arms tight and defensive over his chest. "save it, mags, please," he says. "i've been trying to justify it like that to myself all night. you're lucky i didn't need to actually sleep tonight, or else you probably would've ended up choking on your own vomit or some shit, and that would've been just great, huh? then you'd be fucking dead, and it's taako's fucking fault."

_again,_ he doesn't say. he doesn't need to. even without glamour springs, they both have enough death on their hands.

magnus glances over at kravitz, but if he has anything to add to this particular conversation, he keeps it to himself, just observing silently. magnus takes a deep breath and looks back at taako and says, "okay. apology accepted."

taako stares him down, waiting, and then deflates a little when he realizes there isn't more coming. he doesn't let his arms fall, though — if anything, he tightens his grip on himself. "i hate you," he says. "don't be _good,_ right now, okay, dude? you could've— you actually could've gotten like... actually hurt. or worse. okay? can we both agree on that?"

magnus shrugs. "could happen any time," he says, thinking of the thin spot in the wall in the den, of the draft in the guest room.

"yeah, you could trip on a rock and smash your head open," taako agrees, "but no one's gonna blame the rock, because the rock doesn't have agency, or like... arms and legs to get itself out of your way and _not_ trip you. taako, on the other hand, most definitely has hands that put shit in your cocoa and almost killed you."

"the rock also can't be morally gray, taako," magnus says. "whatever, fine, yeah, something worse could've happened tonight, but i'm not gonna get mad at you just because you want me to. you can control what you do, sure, but you don't get to control how i feel about it."

"you suck," taako says, and this is the weirdest apology magnus has ever received in his _life,_ he thinks, but... whatever. if it gets taako to give up this weird, self-hating crusade he's started on tonight for some reason.

magnus shrugs again, and then reaches out and grabs taako by the elbow and pulls him in for an awkward hug. he catches a glimpse of kravitz turning his face away to give them just a bit of privacy, but then magnus looks away as well, feeling awkward. "taako," he says, muffled into taako's shoulder where it presses awkwardly against his chin. "i'm fine. okay? i am. there's nothing wrong with me."

"debatable," taako grumbles, and he doesn't hug magnus back, but he doesn't pull away either. "there's plenty that's wrong with you. stupid human who needs stupid sleep and can't take a stupid apology."

magnus laughs a little, and it pulls at the strained muscles through his torso, but he doesn't stop himself. he lets it take him until it gets probably a little too loud for the middle of the night, and then he releases taako and holds him at arm's length. "it's not your fault, okay?" he says. "and it doesn't matter either way, because i ended up okay regardless."

taako eyes him distrustfully, and— yeah, that's a little more taako than he's been tonight. "you're okay," he repeats back, wary.

magnus smiles at him and squeezes his shoulders and does absolutely everything he can to convey as much comfort and calm as physically possible. "yes, taako," he says. "i'm fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw clarification: magnus unknowingly ingests drugs and has a bad reaction because of something taako does. if you feel that for any reason you don't want to read that scene, stop reading after taako says "not bad, bud" and i can provide a summary of the rest of the chapter.
> 
> again i would love any feedback!! i am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia), shoot me a message or leave a comment and let me know what you think! next chapter will again be up next monday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter: descriptions of panic attacks & hypervigilance, one scene involving a house fire
> 
> there is some unreliable narrator stuff that i'm playing with, especially in this chapter. i would remind you as you read that magnus can only provide his own perspective on things, and maybe his perspective of other people's perspectives, but he can't read minds. just something to keep in mind. hope everyone enjoys though!

there's no way around it — the next morning is horrible and awkward, but it's much less awkward than that night was, so magnus decides that it could always be worse and forges through with the single-minded optimism his family knows him so well for.

angus requests omelets for breakfast, but taako shoots him down and reminds him that big breakfasts are a lot of work and if angus wants eggs he can make them himself. it's a little harsh, but if angus is hurt, he doesn't show it. magnus suspects he knows a decent bit about what happened the night before, but no one brings it up, and angus doesn't ask.

the morning stretches on for ages. angus brews himself some tea, and magnus awkwardly coaches him through what turn out to be decent eggs — good enough at least that taako lets himself eat them, even if he doesn't look particularly excited. he also doesn't pick them apart and toss a half dozen critiques and pointed suggestions angus's way, either, which says more about his mood than probably anything else.

after breakfast, magnus decides he most definitely needs some time out of the house, and kravitz keeps giving taako looks like they could really use a moment alone, so magnus takes angus and they go down into town to pick up magnus's mail and poke around center square for a little. magnus catches sight of brindle and jonas opening up shop, and brindle flashes magnus a bright, unhidden smile that lifts magnus's spirits just a little.

when they get back to the house, the door to the guest room is shut tight and magnus discovers suddenly that he has absolutely not a clue how to entertain a twelve year old boy. thankfully, angus seems intent on entertaining himself, curling up in magnus's spot on the couch once more with a caleb cleveland novel.

it leaves magnus at a loose end, though, and he spends several long minutes sweeping around the house and checking everything he didn't get a chance to last night. he feels guilty now for worrying so much about whether taako would check, what with everything else that happened, but he feels a little better when he knows that the windows are, in fact, securely fastened. and it's while he's peering around the edges of the window and checking for signs of wear that he catches sight of an unfamiliar carriage cresting over the top of the hill and lumbering toward the house.

saved by the cleric, he thinks, a little desperate, and rushes to throw the front door open just in time to see merle carefully help himself down to the ground before turning to help mavis down behind him.

magnus is a little more wary of sweeping merle into a hug, because he's caught more than one strange smell off of him that way before in the past, but he does rush out with a bubbling, excited yell. "merle!"

merle grunts as mookie leaps down from the carriage and lands heavily in his arms, but then turns and grins broadly at magnus as he approaches. "hey, there he is!" he crows, and reaches up to pat magnus on the hip. "who's hurt?"

magnus frowns. "huh?"

"well," merle says, as he heaves a backpack up onto his shoulder and passes two smaller ones to the kids. "can't remember the last time you were so excited to see me. figure someone needs healing."

magnus snorts and shakes his head. "if i needed healing," he says, "i promise i wouldn't go to you, old man."

merle waves a dismissive hand and starts steering mavis and mookie toward the house with the kind of practiced motion that magnus assumes only comes with fatherhood — and who would've guessed merle could actually be _good_ at it. "you say that now," the dwarf says, "but we'll see who you come crying to later."

for all the jokes, magnus thinks it might actually... be a kind of healing thing, to have merle around right now. they desperately need someone who won't poke or prod at what happened last night, someone who doesn't know and frankly, doesn't _care,_ so they can move past it and get back to being a family again. the last few days have been so nice, magnus thinks. he just wants to go back to that now.

angus is waiting for them by the door, polite as always, but he smiles big and wide when magnus approaches with the newcomers. "hello, sir!" he chirps at merle, and then smiles a bit more shyly at mavis and mookie. "hello," he says, a little quieter.

merle shoots angus a bit of a stink eye, but it's mostly good-natured. "hey, kid," he says. "guess taako and satan beat us here, then, huh?"

"mr. kravitz really doesn't like it when you call him that, sir," angus chirps as they step inside and magnus locks the door behind them.

"no," kravitz agrees dryly from the hallway down to the guest room. "he doesn't, but he can live with it."

taako is hanging behind him, an unreadable expression on his face, but he follows kravitz into the den and sticks close by his side. "should've known who it was based on the noise," taako says, shooting magnus a look. magnus grins back, and half expects taako to look away after how the morning has gone, but they hold each other's gaze for a second, and then taako shrugs, and— well, it's an improvement, magnus thinks.

things do get a little better, with merle around. angus comes out of his shell a little, seemingly fascinated by mavis and mookie's relationship. he and mavis settle down on the floor in the den to discuss caleb cleveland and some basic spellcasting while the older girl tries to keep mookie from eating things, and magnus (carefully, cautiously) breaks out a new bottle of wine for the adults to share.

it's easier, that day. merle hasn't heard taako tell stories about his book tour fifty-five times, and has plenty of stories of his own to share, so magnus can hang back and watch for most of the day. he catches taako and kravitz (and angus, which is more than a little embarrassing) watching him several times, but he doesn't know how to tell them any more clearly that he doesn't need help, and he's fine, and they don't need to worry. he also is not interested in drawing any more attention to the matter now that there are more people here, but his house is about to get much more crowded over the next few days, so hopefully his issues will fade into the background as taako is distracted by his sister and... well. everyone else.

dinner is simple, leftovers from last night's feast of rice and beans, but no one's complaining. mookie makes a disastrous mess across the table and the floor, but he seems to have almost as much fun picking grains of rice off the floor as he does _making_ the mess, so no harm, no foul. magnus finally manages to wrestle the dishes from kravitz's cold, dead hands, and he and taako disappear back into the guest room while the kids pile back into the den to talk about caleb cleveland or something.

which leaves magnus and merle, alone in the kitchen, washing and drying and putting away. magnus has a stepstool he keeps around specifically for the shorter members of their family, and merle kicks it around the floor rather than lift it and move it properly, but magnus can't really bring himself to worry about scratches in the wood. it's just nice to have him back.

"place is looking nice, mags," merle says as he reaches up to stack clean bowls back in one of the cupboards. he's got a foot planted on the counter — magnus chooses not to say anything about that.

"you were here not that long ago," magnus points out, reaching into the water to pull the stopper. "it can't have changed all that much since then."

"nah, not too much," merle says. he seats himself on the stepladder and wipes his damp hands on his pants, then plants his chin in his flesh hand and stares at magnus out of his one remaining eye. "just feels a little more lived in, is all."

"well..." magnus shrugs, and turns his attention to scraping bits of food out of the sink. "i mean, someone does live here."

"ehh, _someone_ lives in raven's roost," merle says. " _someone's_ got signs he's been places all over town. didn't have so much of those in the house last time i was round here."

magnus really isn't sure where merle's going with this, but after last night, or the conversation with kravitz the night before, he's really not sure he's ready for another dive into his personal well-being. he opens his mouth to say just that (without actually saying any of those words), but merle cuts him off and says thoughtfully, "i think it's all the knick knacks."

magnus frowns. "knick knacks?"

"yeah, you've been doin' some decoratin'," merle says, waving a hand at the table. magnus isn't sure what he means exactly until his eyes catch on the salt and pepper shakers — little trees he carved very carefully over a few days maybe two weeks ago. he'd woken from a dream about— actually, he doesn't remember now, but something to do with hurley and sloane, he thinks.

he turns his back to the table, feeling very vulnerable. he's not going to tell merle why he's been spending so much time with wood and a knife lately, even though a letter tucked far in the back of his nightstand springs to mind. sure, if anyone could help, it would probably be merle, but so far the only thing that's managed to get magnus a solid six hours of sleep has been getting stupidly drunk, so he's not sure if even merle would have anything particularly helpful. with the luck he's had lately, even a _solid_ sleep spell would probably have him awake again in a few minutes, if it even took to begin with.

magnus has been quiet for a little too long, but merle's not really paying attention to him anymore, anyway. he makes a soft grunting noise, and then slowly levers himself to his feet and steps down to the floor. "well," he says. "should probably see about getting mookie into a bath. kid probably has rice between his toes and just about anywhere else it can get."

"bathroom's down the hall on the right," magnus says, but merle just waves a hand at him — he knows.

* * *

they lay off the wine early, and taako doesn't make hot cocoa that night, and neither angus nor kravitz mentions it even though it was just on the brink of becoming a nightly ritual. mookie demands a story of kravitz's job, and although mavis and angus both look uncertain at first, they're both hanging on to the story with wide eyes by the time kravitz has gotten into the swing of it. taako's stone of farspeech chirps at him with a call from ren, and he ducks outside to take it, abandoning kravitz to the kids despite the desperately pleading look he throws after taako's back.

the cold has started to creep into the house, and merle offers to head out and grab some firewood. after a long few minutes he hasn’t returned, and magnus half fears that he's hitting on the oak tree, so he too abandons kravitz. it's surprisingly easy.

he doesn't see merle immediately — or taako either, for that matter, but it doesn't take long to spot them. they’re both seated under the tree, but thankfully merle is fully clothed and not getting handsy with the bark. magnus approaches slowly so he won't spook them, but pauses as scraps of their conversation float to him through the cold, crisp night air.

"you don't think it has to do with..." merle trails off, sounding uncertain.

"i don't know," taako says, voice flat. "not like there's any way to ask. i'm not gonna go poking around that shit when we don't actually know— if there were other side effects."

"mm," merle hums, and falls silent for a moment. it stretches out so long that magnus is just about to step forward and make his presence known when merle speaks again. "you know who might be able to answer some questions."

"no," taako says, and his voice is sharper this time. "i don't, actually. and don't bring it up again. none of it would have even happened if it wasn't for her, and you know it, and we all know it, and i'm not discussing it."

"yeah, yeah, all right," merle says, and magnus can't quite see him lift his hands defensively, but he can hear it in his voice. "just thought she might be able to help."

"i am not going to let her start poking around again in—" taako starts to say, and then he turns his head and catches sight of magnus and frowns. "do you have something to say, or were you just gonna stand there acting creepy until we noticed?"

merle starts and turns as well, and magnus shrugs and crosses the rest of the way to the big tree, plopping down in front of them. "you noticed," he says. "so i guess we'll never know. everything okay?"

"peachy," taako says. "i miss when you walked so loud anyone could hear you coming a mile away. is carey coming to this? i'm gonna give her a piece of my mind a year late."

magnus smiles. "yeah, she and killian, um—" and he breaks off, because he hasn't... he never really _told_ taako that lucretia was coming, and judging by the conversation he just interrupted, it wouldn't exactly be welcome news. he's going to figure it out sooner or later, but magnus suspects that letting taako build up this confrontation in his mind would go over even worse than springing it on him.

if taako notices the almost slip, he doesn't call him on it. "good," he says. "it's all her fault that you're all sneaky and shit. can she take it back? she should take it back."

it's good-natured ribbing, as far as taako goes, and magnus feels the warmth and familiarity of it spread down to his stomach and all out through his body, despite the cold ground underneath them. and even that is familiar — taako and magnus and merle, sitting in a circle on cold, dark, packed earth and sharing stories of pasts that were not their own, though they didn't quite know that yet, and taako hurling light insults left and right and magnus and merle absorbing them and occasionally tossing one back, until the three of them felt like family without knowing that they already were.

"what are you grinning at?" taako demands, kicking magnus lightly in the sole of his boot.

"nothing," magnus says, and he does try to tone down the smile, but he's not sure how well it works. "i dunno. just missed this."

"missed _what?_ " taako asks, a little miffed. "i'm trying to insult you. you're insufferable, you know that? you've never been any fun to mess with."

magnus chuckles quietly at that, and shrugs. "i don't know," he says. "the three of us, i guess. we had a good run, yeah? we did some pretty badass shit."

"amen to that," merle says, soft but gruff.

"i guess," taako says, wary. "i mean, we almost died like a dozen times. or, i should say _i_ almost died like a dozen times, because i can count on two hands the number of times that our illustrious cleric has healed me in the last hundred fucking years." merle doesn't even look fazed by the comment.

"well, yeah," magnus says. "but like... there were some good times. we did some good stuff. saved a lot of people. helped a lot of people."

"saved a lot of people," taako echoes. "you mean, like, the entire world and every other world and all of creation? i mean, yeah."

getting through to taako when he doesn't want to be gotten through to is probably a lost cause, but magnus has always been pointlessly stubborn. and there's always been one thing that's gotten under taako's skin more than anything else — magnus drops his guard and says, gently, "taako. you know what i mean."

taako eyes him for a long, quiet moment, and then looks down at his lap and mumbles, "yeah. i guess."

"for what it's worth," merle says. "i gotta agree on the 'did some pretty badass shit' point."

"yeah, that's fair," taako says, and lifts a hand to inspect his nails. "i mean, we all know who did the majority of the badass shit."

magnus and merle glance at each other, sharing a brief look, and then both look back to taako and say, simultaneously, "me?"

taako drops his hands into his lap and looks up at the sky. "if my boyfriend's mom was merciful," he says, "she would take me now, so i never have to spend another second with these idiots."

merle claps taako on the shoulder and roars with a deep, rumbling laugh. "don't get your hopes up, kid," he says, which has taako rolling his eyes dramatically — dwarves and elves and age is another conversation they've had five hundred times.

it occurs to magnus now that this is probably— it's not the happiest he's been. he doesn't think much can rival the feeling that explodes inside him each time he sees one of his friends step down from a carriage with their new families in tow. but this, tonight, sitting on the cold earth with his two of his closest and oldest friends, two people who can uniquely understand everything that has happened to him, two people who he would trust with... absolutely anything. this is probably the most peaceful he's felt in a long time.

taako and merle continue to bicker, but magnus tunes them out and turns his face up to the sky. the stars are twinkling back at him, the night sky clear and clean. he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes and lets the peacefulness wash over him, lets it fill his lungs and his chest and his veins. "hey," he says when he opens his eyes.

taako and merle look away from each other, their argument temporarily forgotten. "what's up, big guy?" taako asks, a little wary like he's expecting something incredibly sappy and stupid.

"i wasn't trying to eavesdrop," magnus says. "but what were you talking about when i first came out here?"

"magic shit, my dude," taako says. "ren had a quick q about some stuff back at the school. i told her i'd ask around, and our ever helpful cleric had absolutely nothing useful to share except some opinions about who i _should_ ask, and i told him to stuff it."

magnus drops his gaze from the sky and glances over at them. taako is watching him with an eyebrow raised, and merle— merle is studying him, almost, with that look he gets in his eye sometimes when no one is looking. it's the one that reminds magnus that merle is a lot of things — a skeevy cleric, a sketchy dad, an absolutely terrible confidante and liar — but he is before all of that, a man with over two hundred chronological years of knowledge and a thirst for understanding that puts most of their family to shame and rivals the best of them. magnus has absolutely no idea why that look is leveled at him right now.

he pulls his eyes away and looks back to the sky. "okay," he says. "everything good?"

"like i said, just peachy, boyo," taako says. "but i promise i'll tell you if i run into a magic school related problem that i think you can bash open with your head or like, the nearest blunt and/or sharp object. sound good?"

something about it doesn't sit right with magnus. taako is an accomplished liar, and it would be the understatement of more than one century to say that taako has lied to him before. but— it's candlenights, or near enough. maybe that doesn't mean a huge amount to taako, but it means something to magnus. there will be enough fights to last them a while soon enough — magnus doesn't need to add to that list right now.

"yeah," he says, reaching out and patting taako's knee. "sounds good to me."

* * *

maybe just out of pure physical exhaustion, magnus sleeps that night. it's fitful, and he's certain he spends more time awake than asleep, but what sleep does come to him is dreamless and calm. it helps, he thinks, to know that the living room is a little more packed, that merle is there and his bag is not far from reach should he need a weapon or a spell, that angus is not a sleeping target on the couch.

it's a stroke of luck, really, because as much as he would like to avoid arguing with anyone right now, the instigating factor of the next argument arrives before breakfast.

magnus is, of course, the first one properly awake. a chill has set deeper into the house overnight, and he finally gives up chasing sleep around dawn and heads out into the house warm things up and do a quick sweep. he walks carefully and quietly, pausing only for a second in front of the door to the guest room, but he hears no voices or stirring within.

out in the den, merle is snoring. mavis and mookie are tucked close together on a pile of blankets a few feet away from their father, and angus is curled up into a tight ball, shivering gently under the blanket and tossing a little restlessly. he stills a little once magnus has the fire going again, and a little sigh escapes him when magnus throws an extra blanket over his small form.

his family attended to, magnus makes the executive decision that taako should really get a full day off from cooking, especially given that the crowd is only going to get bigger and he has no idea when lup will be here to help out. so he changes into something warm and shoves his feet into his winter boots and starts off down the slope to town.

the sky is cloudy today, a warning sign with the cold that's seeping through his heavy coat, but magnus finds himself a little more energized than usual this morning. maybe it's the few hours of dreamless sleep, or just the peacefulness of the moment with his friends last night, or something else altogether, but he feels— he feels _better,_ today.

the house he helped build for the girls is standing tall and strong, and there are even a few potted plants that have made their way out to the porch. there's no signs of wakefulness inside, nor is there much throughout the town, but by the time he's made it to town center, there's a few people out and about. a few people are setting up stalls at the farmer's market, and the sign in the front window of the blacksmith's flips from closed to open as he passes. he gives a little wave, though he has no idea who's inside to see it.

he finally reaches eleanor's tavern and tentatively pokes his head inside. the dining room is mostly empty save for a table in the back corner where two people he can't quite see in the dim lighting are sharing breakfast. he heads for the bar and hovers near the bell on the counter, hesitant to create too much noise so early in the morning.

luckily, though, eleanor backs out of the kitchen just then, arms laden down with a large tray stacked high with a simply massive array of dishes and utensils. she looks a bit surprised to see someone standing at the bar, and then her face splits into a smile.

"magnus!" she greets him, loud and excited as ever. "good to see ya, take this!"

magnus barely has time to prepare before she dumps the tray into his arms, and he sways a little under its weight. "um," he says. "hi, eleanor."

"g'morning," she greets him. "if you wouldn't mind setting that on the big community table i'll be with ya in a second, yeah?"

far be it for magnus to say no to a woman who refuses to let him pay for any of his meals, so he does as she asks and carefully crosses the room and sets the tray on the long table in the center of the room. a stack of glasses tips and nearly falls, but he quickly rights it and, as he does, catches sight of an envelope tucked under the rim of the bottom glass — and it has his name on it.

he frowns and glances back over his shoulder at eleanor, who is standing at the only occupied table, making pleasant chitchat. he opens the envelope carefully and glances inside. there is, of course, a handful of gold coins nestled within.

"and don't try that again," eleanor says, startling him so bad he nearly jumps out of his skin. when he turns around, she's got her hands on her hips and she's fixed him with a fierce look. "i'm serious," she says. "no magnus burnsides pays for food in my bar."

"it's technically a bar and tavern and restaurant and inn," magnus points out, but the look on her face says she's not buying it. he shrugs and meekly stows the envelope in the front pocket of his pants. "can't blame me for trying."

"i absolutely can," eleanor disagrees, and then smiles. "so what brings you in?"

magnus gives her a small smile in return. "something you've got no choice but to let me pay for, because it's like, as last minute as possible and a pretty big order."

"we'll see," eleanor says. "hit me."

"i need breakfast for seven," magnus says. "and if i could come back and pick something up for dinner too, that would be great. and one of those people is me, and one of them is a dwarf in single digits who eats more than anyone i've ever met. "

"mm, and you've met a lot of people," eleanor says, her smile taking on a knowing edge. "well, it'll be tight, but give me half an hour or so and i'll see what i can put together, okay? and we can work out payment later."

"or we can work out payment now," magnus suggests, but eleanor has already turned away and started walking back to the bar. she waves a hand over her shoulder to suggest that she's heard him, but magnus suspects this will be just another debt he owes her and that she will never let him repay.

he sighs, and seats himself at one of the stools at the bar. he's just resigned himself to a long, impatient wait when he feels a cold, sharp edge press against the side of his neck.

his whole body stiffens — his mind goes flat, then sharp and raging, racing through each moment since he stepped foot into the bar. the table in the corner, he thinks, searching his memory for any detail of their faces. magnus is strong enough to overpower most people, but he's already let them get too close, and he should have been more _careful,_ this is only going to be the first step, he has to get word to taako and merle _now,_ the kids are up there, they'll be headed there next, why wasn't he paying more attention, he should have been watching the corners he knows better he's letting himself get soft this is because he slept last night he should have stayed up and watched—

"that's a d minus, magnus burnsides," says a very familiar voice. "someone hasn't been practicing."

"carey," he gasps, and every thought in his mind comes to a screeching halt. the knife falls away from his throat and he spins suddenly and grabs her, pulling her into the tightest hug he can possibly muster. "don't _ever_ fucking do that again."

carey laughs, loud and bold, and hugs him back. "hey, you're the one who wasn't paying attention!" she says, and gives him a firm pat on the back before letting go. she grins at him, wild and big.

"still," he says, feeling like all the wind has left him. "when the hell did you get in? you should have called!"

carey waves a hand and shrugs. "it was late," she says. "we didn't wanna bother you, figured we'd grab breakfast and then head up, but look who turned up here without us even having to look! man, you are a sight for sore eyes, the bureau's so fucking _boring_ without you and the boys screwing stuff up left and right."

"maybe don't let the director hear you say that," killian says, approaching now as well. she smiles at magnus and grabs him as well for a tight hug. "good to see you, mags."

"you, too," magnus says sincerely, and then glances around. "i thought— did lucretia come with you?"

"she's upstairs," carey says. "thought we'd let her sleep a little longer while we ate." she pauses then and glances back in the direction of the stairs. "look," she goes on, turning back to face magnus. "don't tell her i said this, but she really needs this. like, the whole vacation, holiday with the family thing. it's been... i mean, you know how she is. she doesn't want anyone to know, but like... it hasn't been great."

magnus hates that. yes, he does know how lucretia is, and he knows how the world is and how things have gone down, and he knows exactly how she must be feeling right now about... well, just about everything in the world and every other world in existence. he knows it's not... great.

"yeah," he says, softly. "i know. um. just as a warning, like... taako and kravitz got here a few days ago, so. um. you know."

carey winces. "yeah, we figured. i mean— i think she knows that's happening, right? she's not dumb. you said the whole family, so... she knows. she still decided to come anyway, which is like, a big deal because she's been doing just about everything in her power to avoid, um. well, she probably thinks it's to avoid putting _him_ in that position, but... well."

yeah, magnus thinks. well. well, it's not just taako who's hurting, though he certainly is and magnus isn't trying to bulldoze over that, but... well.

"yeah, i know," he says again. "i mean, merle and the kids are there, and angus too, so like. it won't be as bad, it's not like it's just the two of them. and you guys are here! i figure once lup and barry get here it'll be a little more normal, but like... yeah. i mean. we can just... do what we can to keep them apart till then. right?"

carey opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off as a dry, familiar voice calls from the stairs, "keep who apart?"

magnus looks up, and he feels his heart swell a little to see her. she's dressed a little more casual, the first time he's seen her out of a uniform in... well, at least a decade. she smiles, and it's tired and practiced, but it's also genuine, and magnus is up and out of his seat before he can even think about it.

if the hug he gave taako or carey was crushing, this is— smothering. it's been so long since he was able to just _have_ her near, and know who she was, and not have the world ending or a major formal event to hold him back. it feels so fucking good to have her wrapped in his arms — he missed her more than he could have described before this very moment.

she wraps her arms around him in return, and she feels so small, but her frame is stronger and sturdier than he remembers. whether that's the decade of solitude or the year of rebuilding, he's not sure, but it fits her well.

"hi, magnus," lucretia says quietly into his chest, and he hugs her, if possible, tighter.

"hey, luce," he says back. "missed you."

"i missed you, too," she says. they finally, finally draw apart, and she looks up at him with that same smile. "it's very good to see you."

magnus laughs once, and then again, and he throws an arm around her shoulders and draws her back over to carey and killian. "you have no idea, luce," he says. "how's things? looks like the girls ate breakfast without you, you wanna come up to the house? i'm just stopping in grabbing some food for everyone real quick—"

carey and killian's demeanor changes slightly with their director around, and... yeah, magnus remembers what that's like. but he can't quite remember how to _act_ that way around her. she's still the director, and she probably always will be, but he doesn't think he'll ever be able to treat her that way again. she's his _sister,_ not his boss, and it's almost funny to think that he ever treated her as such.

the girls leave some money on the counter to pay eleanor for breakfast and slip back upstairs to change, leaving magnus and lucretia alone at the bar. she heaves a deep sigh as they leave and the smile falls from her face, replaced by a look he's grown... upsettingly used to seeing on her face, one of exhaustion and frustration and just a little pain.

"hey," he says, gentle, and reaches out to take one of her hands. "what's up?"

she seems to think about it for a moment, and then shakes her head like she's decided something. "are we going to talk about it, magnus?" she asks.

"um," he says. "about what?"

"the reason that you and killian and carey are plotting ways to keep me apart from taako," she says, and her voice isn't harsh, but magnus thinks that if she was still his boss, that might sting a little.

"huh," he says softly. he pulls back, and she folds her hands together in her lap, polite and proper and perfect. "um," he says. "i don't know. do you wanna talk about it?"

"not particularly," she says. "but i feel like we should. my presence is not... desired."

"that's not true," magnus says quickly. "i want you here, everyone wants you here. taako's just— you know how taako is, it's just... he needs time."

"yes, i know how taako is," lucretia agrees. "but taako was hurt deeply by what i did. it's not my place to insert myself into a family event just for my own healing. i don't want to make things worse by staying away and distancing myself, or causing anyone to believe that i think i'm above such things, but—"

"hey, luce?" magnus cuts her off, and leans forward to rest his hands on her knees. "cut it with the prim and proper talk, okay? it's me. just... talk to me."

lucretia's shoulders sag a little, and she looks down at the ground. "taako doesn't want me around, magnus," she says, softer. "i want to fix it, but i don't know if he'll let me, and i honestly don't even know if i deserve it."

"stop it," magnus says. "don't, okay? you deserve it."

"this is the problem, magnus," lucretia says, and she lays her hands over his. "this right here. everyone is so quick to defend me, but no one wants to admit that if it weren't for my actions, taako would not have spent a decade alone. it's very possible that taako and barry might have found lup and figured out a way to free her if i hadn't— done what i did."

"but you don't know that," magnus says. he flips his hands over to hold hers, wrapping his fingers tight around her wrists. "luce. lucretia. i get it, okay? i'm not— i don't wanna act like taako didn't get hurt, but you're _family._ family fucks up, right? it happens. sometimes you make mistakes and you hurt the people you care about, but you're working so fucking hard to fix it everywhere else, why not here?"

"he hates me, magnus," lucretia says.

"no, he doesn't," magnus argues. "he's got— he just needs to work through some stuff, it's not always gonna be like this. he doesn't hate you. he could never."

"i wish i believed that so strongly, magnus," lucretia murmurs, and then picks herself up and sits a little straighter. "i'm not going to run from it. that's what i've decided. but i don't want you to expect us to come out of this with everything fixed and have that upset you. i don't want you to be disappointed if you can't fix this. that's... the main thing i wanted to say."

magnus takes a deep breath and holds it for a second. he supposes it was never going to be that easy, getting lucretia and taako to work out all the shit between them, but he's not going to hold back, either. once lup is here and can mediate, things will be easier. lucretia will have a harder time avoiding taako, and taako will have a harder time throwing insults and acting generally awful to her. they just have to wait out the time until lup and barry finish their job.

"okay," he says finally, and he gives her hands one last little squeeze before letting them go. "i won't hold my breath. just don't... don't hide from it, okay? this is a holiday for all of us, and i don't wanna watch either of you be miserable the entire time. taako will make things work for him no matter what, so like... don't let yourself get so scared that you don't have fun yourself. okay?"

she gives him another small smile. "i'll do my best," she says.

carey and killian come back eventually, dressed in actual day clothes and strapped up with weapons they probably don't need but definitely feel more comfortable with. magnus can sympathize, and for a moment he aches a little for the missed familiarity of railsplitter strapped to his back.

they sit and chat until eleanor comes back into the front, two of the kitchen boys coming behind her and all three of them laden with large rectangular trays, which they set carefully down on the community table. "all right," eleanor says. "now don't touch the top, those things are enchanted to stay hot on top and cool on the bottom, so don't go burning your fingers, use the damn handles. magnus, it sounded like you might have a couple more visitors today, so i had the boys throw in some extra. i'll send them up with dinner around sunset, yeah? and they'll take the trays back with them then."

"thank you, eleanor," magnus says sincerely, and he reaches into his pocket for the envelope. "just let me—"

"don't you dare, magnus burnsides," eleanor threatens, poking a finger harshly into his chest. "i won't see a single coin out of you, understand me? if you wanna tip the boys when they come up to deliver dinner, i can't stop you, but you're not paying me."

magnus sighs and tucks the envelope away once more. "one day, eleanor," he says, and smiles at her.

"you're welcome to keep trying, bud," she says cheerfully. "let me know if it gets you anywhere."

before they set out, lucretia darts upstairs to grab her things, upon mutual agreement that no matter what goes on at the house, she does not want to be sharing a room with newlyweds still less than a year into their marriage, nor do they have any interest in sharing a room with their _boss._ when she comes back downstairs, magnus and carey and killian each grab a tray and they set off back up the slope.

they make casual conversation on the way up, though lucretia grows increasingly quiet the closer they get to the house. she's fallen silent altogether by the time they reach it, but on magnus's request she fishes his keys out of his jacket pocket and unlocks the front door.

inside, angus and mavis are sitting together, pouring over a textbook of some sort that angus has brought with him from school. mookie has somehow ended up sprawled over merle's chest, though his new position has done nothing to silence his father's snoring. when they enter, angus and mavis look up, and angus's face lights up with joy when he sees them.

"hey, kid!" killian announces, never one to mind her volume, and angus quickly shoves the book off his lap and rushes over to hug her, and then carey, and then lucretia in turn, though he does throw in a polite little bow to lucretia after they pull away.

"it's very nice to see you!" angus says. "is that breakfast?"

"yeah, i figured we'd give taako a day off from cooking," magnus says. angus, ever the professional, keeps a schooled expression on his face at the mention of taako.

all the noise finally has merle stirring, and he pushes himself up with one elbow, sliding mookie off his chest and onto the floor. he rubs at his eye and squints at them through the light coming in through the door. "whazzat?"

"it's nice to see you too, merle," lucretia says, finally speaking, quiet and soft.

merle squints at her a little fiercer, then abruptly brightens and heaves himself to his feet before crossing the room to pull her into a hug. "hey, there, luce!" he yells as he grabs her, and she's laughing even before he's fully pulled her down to his level.

it's good to hear her laugh, magnus thinks. there are some (almost) polite introductions — most of the bureau still hasn't met merle's kids, but of course killian and mookie get along instantly. mavis looks a little put out that her reading has been disturbed, but she ducks out of the room quickly to head for the bathroom.

angus and carey and merle help magnus maneuver breakfast into the kitchen, and the noise level rises steadily as everyone sits down to eat — well, almost everyone. magnus should go get taako. he should wake him up, he should tell him— he should tell him lucretia is here, and carey and killian, and that breakfast is there when he and kravitz are ready. magnus has been pretty shitty about this whole thing from the beginning, and he doesn't need to make it worse by continuing to act like this needs to be _hidden_ from taako, like taako can't be mature about it—

ultimately, it doesn't matter. magnus is hovering a few paces away from the table, still trying to make up his mind, when the doorway from the den fills with a tall, thin form, and taako says, "so my cooking isn't good enough for you anymore?"

kravitz is there, right behind him at his shoulder, and magnus knows — taako knows. it would be hard for him not to, magnus thinks, but... he heard her, or he guessed from the volume or from hearing carey or killian, or he passed mavis in the hallway— it doesn't matter. kravitz is standing a little too close, a little more like support than the simple comfort of being near each other. magnus feels instantly horrible.

he should have said something, but— it's too late now. taako's face is clear and serene as always, glamour on even though he's been leaving it off until after breakfast since they got here. magnus isn't sure if that's because of merle and the kids or because of lucretia, but either way it doesn't quite sit right with him, that taako needs to armor up just for _breakfast._

the room doesn't fall quiet like magnus thinks it should for the seriousness of the moment. the kids either don't notice or don't care, or else they're too smart and they know better than to lend any more attention to it than it's already being afforded. carey and killian are stubbornly not looking up, but they're also not looking at anyone other than each other, including lucretia, who's tucked in between carey and merle on one side of the long table. merle looks up, and he looks at magnus, and then at taako, and then he turns quickly and smoothly and starts cutting up mookie's sausages for him.

"ground control to magnus," taako says, dry and flat. _fuck,_ magnus is zoning out again.

he takes a deep breath and sweeps a hand toward the empty seats still available, gesturing for taako and kravitz to join them. "thought you deserved a day off with so many people here," he says.

"hm," taako says. lucretia's seat is directly in front of the door. she has her eyes fixed on her plate, her fork held limply in her hand, like she's waiting for the attack. taako is standing only a few feet behind her, and magnus watches him as he surveys the room and his eyes linger just for a single moment too long on the back of her head.

an absolutely unreadable expression flickers across taako's glamoured features for just a second, and then he lifts his chin and very deliberately picks his way around the table to flop into the chair on the far opposite corner from lucretia. he's still in pajamas, even if his face is made up to perfection, and it reminds magnus very suddenly of those horrible, horrible weeks after lup disappeared, just before the storm broke.

kravitz gives magnus a quick look as he passes him to sit next to taako — and magnus doesn't know what to make of that expression, either, something between pity and a plea for sympathy and just a little bit of reproach. magnus slowly seats himself as well, taking the chair directly across from lucretia.

the room does get a little quieter then, as everyone tucks into breakfast, and magnus can feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck as the conversation dies down. even killian and carey, who have eaten already, go quiet as they hold hands on top of the table and study the room. magnus can feel his appetite fading under the guilt and shame and anxiety. he wishes merle would crack a joke or taako would make some snide comment or lucretia would ask them what they thought about the weather or— _anything._ just not this silence.

he forces down a few more bites, but his stomach is too unsettled to keep going, so he rests his elbows on the table and props his chin up and watches everyone else eat. lucretia glances up at him once, and she frowns at his plate and then up at him. magnus sees her eyes dart over to taako just for a second and then back to magnus, and then, quietly she says, "i can't remember the last time i saw you leave food on a plate."

they're the first words that have been spoken, and the room suddenly feels even more oppressive and silent than before. magnus can feel everyone's eyes shift to him and lucretia, and he shrugs quickly, hoping to divert them all back to their meal. "i'm watching my figure," he jokes, but it falls flat.

"you should eat," lucretia says, and her eyes drop back down to her own plate.

"went to all the trouble of banning me from the kitchen for a day," taako says suddenly, and magnus thinks they all jump a little, "and you won't even eat the crap you bring back."

"it's not crap," magnus says, a little sharp, but as much as he loves taako, he's not going to let him insult eleanor like that.

"didn't mean it like that, homie," taako says, waving a hand at him. he's not looking at any of them, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "i'm eating it, aren't i? if i hated it, you'd know."

magnus doesn't think that's meant to be as pointed as it comes off. genuinely, he thinks taako is talking about the food, but— it's hard to tell, sometimes, with taako. it doesn't really shed any light on the other situation, either, because magnus doesn't know if the passive aggression is an attack or a truce.

"you should eat," taako says then, studying a potato he's got speared on his fork, and then he pops it into his mouth and reaches for kravitz's hand and pointedly asks killian and carey about their wedding rings, and something in the room... breaks.

angus asks lucretia something then, and merle turns his attention back to mookie, who is about to splash eggs all across the room, and mavis gets drawn into angus and lucretia's conversation, and magnus— magnus takes a deep breath. the knot in his stomach uncurls a little, and when he looks down at his plate, he thinks it really would be a waste to leave all this food, so he shovels down a mouthful and he doesn't even feel sick when it hits his stomach.

he has no idea if this is an improvement, but it's certainly something.

* * *

the rest of the day is a simple, easy affair. they spend most of the day outside despite the cold, mostly because inside has started to get cramped and there's only so much to do in there. magnus ends up getting roped into an impromptu game of tag with mookie and carey and killian, which they somehow rope angus and mavis into as well, and at that point merle joins in too. it leaves lucretia and taako and kravitz on the porch, but magnus can hear kravitz making polite conversation with lucretia each time he sprints by within earshot.

it's still not _right,_ it's still not _great,_ but it's something. taako is quiet for most of the day, but he's quiet a lot when people aren't around, magnus knows, and today isn't the first weird day they've had since taako got here. having kravitz there is good, magnus thinks, as that careful sort of buffer between them. kravitz loves taako enough not to push him, but he also loves him enough not to let him close himself off completely, and things aren't quite as bad.

late in the afternoon, magnus finally starts to get tired. it occurs to him suddenly that he hasn't really had a test to his stamina since the day of story and song — it's been slow and steady since then, but rarely has he had to sprint through anything. the game of tag has devolved into a sort of house rules hide and seek game, which carey is just unfairly good at, but there's an awful lot of chasing involved and magnus is starting to pant a little too heavy to quite keep up.

he's suddenly feeling the years since they settled in on this world, and he sinks down into the dirt under the oak tree to rest. merle, looking just about as tuckered out as magnus feels, approaches him with a solemn look and two big glasses of water, and they both rest there together for a while.

"kids," merle says after some time has passed and neither of them feel like they're about to exhale all their insides. "not worth it, mags. make you feel old like you wouldn't believe."

magnus snorts, though it hurts his sides a little. "i'm starting to get why you're not married anymore, merle," he says.

merle shrugs. "don't think that was ever much of a secret."

fair enough, magnus thinks, and leans his head back against the tree. the sun is starting to set, but even through the slowly dimming light, he can see the uncomfortable trio on the porch. taako hasn't moved, but whatever kravitz and lucretia are discussing has pulled them both into deeper conversation, their bodies turned towards each other now. taako is slouched in one of the rocking chairs, and magnus can just make out the movement of his eyes flicking quickly over to them in response to whatever they're talking about, but he doesn't open his mouth to comment.

it makes magnus feel a little guilty all over again though to watch, so he quickly sweeps his attention across the yard, mentally counting the bodies rushing around the house. there's a half second of brief fear and anxiety when he only counts four, but then angus comes around the corner, a little slower than the others and flagging hard, and magnus lets out a slow, deep breath between his teeth.

merle's been quiet for a while, so magnus glances over at him next just to reassure himself that he's still there, and instead he finds that merle is already staring at him, and that thoughtful, perceptive look is back in his eye. it makes magnus's skin crawl in a way he's not quite sure what to do with, so he looks away quickly.

"something on my face?" he asks, rubbing at his neck.

"nah," merle says. "y'look tired, mags. must've been up early to get breakfast back before we all woke up."

magnus shrugs. "i'm always tired," he says, which isn't a lie, and he doesn't think has been a lie in over a century.

"guess that's fair," merle says. "y'know you don't gotta do everything for us, right? taako don't mind cooking."

"i know," magnus says, and he does, but— it wouldn't be fair to _make_ him. he should have the option to back out every now and then. "i just wanted to give him a break. it'll be easier for him when lup's here and they can divide everything."

"and who's dividing luggin' all that shit up a mountain with you?" merle asks.

magnus frowns. "carey and killian?"

"who i assume you didn't know were there," merle says, "or else i sure as hell hope you'd've given a guy a little heads up that we were gonna be dealin' with all that shit this morning, and before breakfast even."

magnus winces and looks down at his hands, tracing old scars and calluses. "sorry," he says, quiet, and the guilt rushes back. he's spent all day thinking about how not saying anything probably hurt taako — he didn't even think about how it would affect everyone else who had to sit around and watch it. "i didn't— i wasn't trying to hide it, i just... there wasn't a good time to bring it up."

"i'm only half serious, mags," merle says. "heads up woulda been nice, yeah, but we made it, didn't we? quit beatin' yourself up, coulda gone a lot worse than it did."

"yeah," magnus mumbles. "i know."

he does. he really does. just— he glances up again, and taako has disappeared off the porch, and kravitz with him, and it's just lucretia now. magnus's stomach flops at the thought that she's alone up there by herself and he has no idea what led to it. she looks so lonely up there all on her own, and it reminds magnus suddenly and horribly of that year with the judges, and the decade she spent waiting for them.

"it's not all your responsibility, mags," merle says. "let them figure it out on their own. they will, don't worry. or at the very least, lup won't let them keep this up."

magnus chews the inside of his cheek, contemplating that for a moment, the frustration and helplessness churning in his stomach. finally, he lets out a long breath and says, "i can't not try, merle. they— they're my siblings, right? basically. i can't watch my family— i can't watch this stuff happen and not try to fix it."

"you're a good brother for tryin'," merle says, quiet and low and rumbling and earthy and familiar. "but this is the problem with bein' in the middle of someone else's fight, yeah? all you can do is give them the opportunity. they'll do with it whatever they want. you can't force it."

magnus shakes his head, a little harder than necessary maybe. "i can't leave it, though," he says. "i have to do something, merle. it's not lup's responsibility either, i can't just... hand all this off on her. she's not taako's _keeper,_ she's got her own problems, right? kravitz, too."

"all right, fair enough," merle agrees. "but maybe taako don't need a keeper, maybe he just needs a little perspective change. you've given him a chance for that."

magnus finally tears his eyes away from lucretia, alone and quiet and contemplative, staring out across the yard and up into the sky. he wonders if she misses the moon and its solitude. he wonders if she thinks fondly of those years where she was powerful and could protect them all, or if she only remembers the loneliness. magnus doesn't know what he would pick — alone and powerful, or united with his family but with no way to keep them safe.

"i can't not do anything, merle," he says again, now. "i'm not trying to force it, i just... i can't see something like that right in front of me and not _try._ "

merle heaves a sigh and reaches over to pat magnus's thigh with his flesh hand. "yeah, i figured," he says. "just don't hold yourself responsible, yeah?"

magnus can't help smiling a little at that. "lucretia said something pretty similar," he says.

merle laughs, gentle but rumbling. "yeah, well, none of ya could've avoided pickin' up a little of the old man, could ya?"

"as long as it isn't the, uh, sexual preferences?" magnus says. "i think we ended up okay."

"yeah," merle says. "y'all turned out all right."

* * *

a kind of lived-in tension falls over the house for the rest of the night and most of the next day. taako and lucretia avoid each other and remain at least ten feet apart at any given time, but everyone seems to adapt to it quickly, and at least neither of them are leaving the room every time the other steps in. the rest of them find ways to work them both into conversations without a massive amount of awkwardness, and that helps.

bedtime is awkward, of course. magnus really sees no reason that lucretia should have to sleep on the floor — not that she's never done it anywhere before, but it's not as if having a bed helps him get to sleep anyway, so he might as well offer it up to her. at the very least he knows that his bedroom is secure, and he won't need to worry about her safety in any way if she's tucked in there. but of course, she refuses and ends up rolling out her own pile of blankets and a thin, worn down pillow magnus thinks he recognizes as ipre issue before he can push the matter.

but it's fine. they make it through the night. carey and killian return to the inn after dinner, taking the empty trays with them. "could use a night alone with my wife anyway," carey says, winking at magnus, and he sticks his tongue out at her. they return late in the morning, shortly after breakfast and long after magnus has done his rounds around the house.

but for all they've all managed to find a kind of comfortable truce for now, it all explodes around lunch time — quite literally, actually, because taako is in the middle of showing off some weird conjuration magic he's picked up somehow when the spectral rabbit he has dancing around the den is suddenly cleft in two by a rift in the air, and lup steps through, tall and gorgeous and corporeal, and her presence instantly sets a thread of ease through the air. magnus thinks they might have all sighed in unison when she walks in, just out of pure relief.

"you killed my rabbit," taako says sourly, letting his hands and wand fall into his lap where he's sitting on the floor.

"yeah, we'll talk about it later," lup says, and she points very angrily and dramatically at kravitz, who is sitting directly behind taako, his elven boyfriend tucked between his knees. his eyes go a little wide when lup points at him and says, " _you._ "

"ah," kravitz says. "i assume you two finished up?"

barry steps through the rift behind lup and winces a little. "you could say that," he says weakly, and gives everyone a tiny wave, which is returned by absolutely no one, as the room’s collective attention is firmly fixed on lup.

"you know damn well we finished up _,_ " lup says, and a little crackle of electricity and flame shoots off around her pointed finger. "we sent you the paperwork _two days ago._ "

the room falls completely silent. kravitz's mouth opens a little like he's about to speak, but he stops himself, and a small crease forms between his eyebrows, and he _thinks—_ and then his mouth snaps shut and his face colors, just the tiniest bit.

"yeah, that's right!" lup says, and she jumps up and down a little, still pointing. "that's fucking right, boss man, bare and i've been stuck playing fucking jailer with some _nobody_ two-bit necromancer for two fucking days while you play house with _my_ brother and _my_ family!"

"all right, love, deep breaths," barry says, stepping up and laying his hands on her shoulders just as the sparks jumping off of her grow a little more aggressive. "it's not— i mean, it _is_ his fault, but..."

"two _days,_ barry!" lup thunders, but she does lower her finger, if only to cross her arms and outright glare. "while everyone sits around and gets drunk and swaps old fight stories _without us!_ "

"babe, sit the fuck down," taako says. he looks surprisingly amused given the drama of the situation, but he does know lup better than any of them. "and leave the boyf alone, he's been distracted."

"don't defend him, taako," lup says. "i don't care how much you've been—" and she cuts herself off, suddenly seeming to realize that there are other people in the room — more specifically, that angus and mavis and mookie are in the room. "i don't care how much you've been _distracting_ him," she says. "the _least_ he could do is sign off to let us fucking leave! we're technically breaking the law right now!"

"i must have forgotten to have my mail forwarded," kravitz says, sounding a little strangled. "i— it was an accident, truly, i am so sorry, i'll just—" and he stands quickly, stumbling a little and apologizing furiously to taako when he knees him in the back of the head. "sorry, dear, oh no, i— i'll just pop over real quick and fix this, you two stay here for now, yeah?"

his work accent is coming out a little, and magnus does feel a _little_ bad for him, but he also knows that lup's anger is very rarely unwarranted, and he _also_ knows better than to stand between either of the twins and whatever has pissed them off, so he keeps his mouth shut tight and watches with wide eyes like everyone else.

"thank you," lup says, and sits down in the middle of the floor. it's a very dramatic gesture, though it falls a little flat given how far away she is from everyone else. she keeps her one arm crossed over her chest and reaches up with the other to drag barry down with her. he goes easily though maybe a little unwilling, red in the face and shoving his glasses back up his nose quickly.

"be a dear and pick up our luggage, too, boss man?" lup says. she smiles, and it is such a perfect mirror of taako's angriest moments that magnus feels the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

taako, of course, just rolls his eyes.

"yes, not a problem," kravitz says, wringing his hands nervously. he leans down quickly and places a kiss on top of taako's head; taako says nothing, just raises an eyebrow at lup and quirks the corner of his lip, his arms crossed in a mirror of her own position.

"i'll be right back," kravitz announces, and then steps away from the couch, summons his scythe, and cuts a rift through the world. he gives a tiny, nervous, terrified wave as he steps through.

there is quiet for just a second afterwards, and then taako says, "all right, babe, got that out of your system?"

lup breaks into a huge smile. "yep!"

"feel a little stupid sitting half a mile away from everyone, maybe?" taako suggests.

the smile falls from lup's face, and she hesitates, then shrugs. "nope."

"yeah, okay," taako says. "well, you killed my rabbit."

"um," magnus says then, because he's getting the feeling that this will go on for quite some time if he doesn't step in. "hi, lup."

lup seems to remember that they're all there, then, because her face lights up when she turns her attention toward magnus. she springs to her feet then, light as ever, and nearly tackles him in a hug, and magnus can't quite resist the bubble of laughter that works its way out of him. lup is warm to the touch, and soft, and exactly the right size and height to hug. she's tall enough to hook her chin over magnus's shoulder like taako, but she's got a little more weight and muscle to her, and she relaxes into his embrace in a way taako never has and probably never will.

the tension of the previous moment fades, overtaken very suddenly by the joy of having two more pieces of his family returned to him, and such an important one, too. lup may be taako's sister and barry's soulmate, but her absence hurt all of them in ways they may still not have quite recovered from. there is still a part of magnus sometimes that aches to have her out of sight, and he's sure merle and lucretia must feel it now, too, like he does — that everything is a little safer, a little more concrete and assured with lup in sight and in reach.

that feeling bubbles even higher, nearly uncontrollable, and as soon as he and lup release each other, magnus reaches for barry and crushes him close despite the little choking noise of protest he makes. "hi, mags," he manages to get out.

"hey, bare!" magnus says, and digs his fingers in a little as he ruffles his hair. "you've put on some muscle, look at you!"

barry uses that chance to escape magnus's grasp, surprisingly nimble, and straightens his shirt with a little put upon sigh. "just a bit," he agrees, humble but smiling. "but thanks for noticing."

lup, meanwhile, has started hugging her away around the room, from angus to merle to the kids to carey and killian, and she comes to a stop in front of lucretia and just— smiles. magnus catches sight of it out of the corner of his eye while he's got barry in a headlock and is rubbing a noogie into the top of his head, and he stops suddenly and holds his breath while barry tugs pointlessly at magnus's wrist.

"hey, luce," lup says.

lucretia looks up at her, seated on one of magnus's big, cushy armchairs, and almost seems to be waiting for something. "lup," she says.

"will you stop looking like i'm gonna hit you?" lup says. "it's fucking candlenights, stand up and hug me, babe."

and lucretia— lucretia does. she gets to her feet and throws her arms around lup, and taako looks away and magnus holds his breath and nothing explodes. the girls hold each other for a long time. magnus lets barry go and he straightens quickly, face red from exertion as he fixes his clothes and hair. he gets a soft little expression on his face when he sees lup and lucretia, and then, in a moment of accidental brilliance, sits down heavily next to taako on the couch and says, "hey, how much do you know about necromancy? got a work question for you."

somehow, then, the tension breaks, and lup and lucretia finally pull apart just as taako is distracted by barry. magnus lets his breath out.

conversation has picked back up by the time kravitz gets back, and he stone-faced hands a couple of red stamped papers to barry, who smiles and tucks them into his denim jacket. lup is telling lucretia and carey and killian about the last mission, accompanied by wild hand gestures and dramatically exaggerated descriptions. angus and mavis are pretending not to listen — angus because taako and kravitz probably don't like him being overly involved in that line of work, and mavis because she probably thinks she's not allowed to be part of the conversation.

mookie, meanwhile, has latched onto this stranger in blue jeans who can step through rifts. he's met taako before, so he's a little less impressed by lup, but this strange man he's never met before is supremely interesting.

which leaves magnus and merle and taako and kravitz, and eventually kravitz settles back into his spot behind taako on the couch, another buffer between him and everything that's happening, and taako seems to relax a little. magnus can't help glancing around, counting, and now, with everyone here, it's hard to miss the fact that there's still one person absent.

it's been a long time, since their whole crew was assembled. the crew is bigger now, for sure — there's the kids and there's carey and killian and kravitz, but somehow the house still doesn't quite feel full. the big armchair is empty, and magnus can't ignore it.

he feels an elbow in his thigh, and he glances down to see merle standing next to him. "all good, big guy?" he says.

"do we know when captain's coming in?" magnus asks. his eyes dart back to the armchair.

merle looks a little guilty at that, and he scratches awkwardly at his chin. "well, uh," he says, "tell you the truth, i never did get a hold of him. left a message, but... well, he's out on the sea, right? busy guy. never called back."

magnus feels his stomach sink like he didn't know it could. "oh," he says.

"he'll be here," merle says quickly, like he can see what magnus is thinking, and magnus— doesn't like that. he's working very hard to keep his stupid problems under wraps, he doesn't need merle and everyone else poking around even more, especially after the taako thing.

"yeah," magnus says. "i mean— maybe i should call him. just to be sure." it's important. davenport has to be here. they're _all_ here, who's going to watch his back if no one is with him? he's out there alone _all_ the time, how's he supposed to stay safe? he has to _be_ here.

"i think we gotta let dav take things at his own pace, mags," merle says, low and gentle. "he's got a lot going on. i'm sure he wants to be here, just..."

"davenport's not coming?" lucretia cuts in suddenly, and her voice sounds a little tightly wound — which is about how magnus feels, too.

merle heaves a sigh and turns to face the collective group looking at him. "now, i didn't say that," he says.

"has no one talked to him?" lup asks. "when's the last time he called?"

lucretia's face goes a little pale. "he— there's been so much going on, the bureau has been so busy, i meant to call more often—"

"stop it," lup says, firm and dismissive, with a swat at lucretia's thigh. "well, bare and i can just pop over and grab him, c'mon babe."

"i really don't think that's a good idea," merle says, speaking up a little louder now, authoritative like he used to be sometimes, in the later years whenever davenport... wasn't there. he wasn't like that in the beginning.

"well he can't _not_ be here," lup says, scoffing a little. "everyone else is here, right?"

"he's got—"

"yeah, we've all got a lot going on," lup says, and rolls her eyes. "c'mon, merle, none of us are like, pictures of mental health, right? i don't wanna pull this card, but like, solitude does about fuck all to fix that shit. i get dav is his own person and all, but i'm not letting him waste away on some boat in the middle of nowhere. it's fucking _candlenights._ "

"it would make me feel better if i at least knew where he was," lucretia says softly.

taako snorts, and the room falls quiet.

"stop it," lup says, soft and fierce. she elbows taako a little.

taako raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. "what? i just think it's funny."

"taako, c'mon," barry says quietly.

"no, you c'mon," taako says back. "no one thinks it's funny? course she would _feel_ better if she knew where he was."

"taako, seriously?" lup says, and she turns fully to face her brother. "cut that shit out."

"no one thinks it's a little fucking controlling of us to decide that he _has_ to be here?" taako says. "no one thinks it's ironic that the chick who just spent the last decade of our lives controlling us says she'd _feel_ better if she had an eye on everyone in the same room?"

"mm, taako, love," kravitz says, and his fingers play with the edges of taako's braid. "come walk with me, dear."

taako scoffs. "yeah, whatever," he says, and stands quickly, snatching up kravitz's hand as he does. "just like, i want it to be known? like i want it on the record? i think it's pretty fucking shitty for all of you to decide that you get to make those decisions for him. you called, he didn't answer. let it go now."

lup stares him down, her eyes serious. "okay," she says. "i hear you."

"whatever," taako grumbles, and he drags kravitz out the front door.

and magnus— it feels like something breaks, a little. something feels wrong. davenport is who knows where and taako just— taako just walked out, and lucretia looks like she'd like to do the same. he tries to take a deep breath, but it comes a little faster than he expects, and he coughs sudden and hard at the awkward rush of air. "um," he says, when his lungs clear and everyone is staring at him. "i'm gonna go after him."

"let him go," lup says. "krav'll calm him down. he's just—" and she shrugs, like there's more she'd like to say, but they all know she doesn't want to bring it up in front of lucretia.

"okay," magnus says, and he shoves a hand into his pocket. "then i'm gonna call davenport."

"again," merle says, louder, "i don't think it's a good idea. i gotta agree with taako, it's none of our damn business if he wants to spend some time on his own."

magnus closes his hand around his stone, and digs his fingers into his thigh through the inside of his pants. "it's not _right,_ " he says. "we're all here, we can't— we can't leave him out like that! the last ten years have been hard enough on him, haven't they? we're a _family,_ this was supposed to be _everyone._ "

"mags," carey says, and she holds a hand out in his direction from her spot on the floor. "come sit down, okay?"

magnus doesn't want to, but the thought of leaning against carey and drawing a little support from her sounds— really good right now. he drops onto the rug next to her, and she grabs his hand and starts tracing little circles in his palm, not quite thieves' cant but close enough that it distracts him a little. he takes a deep, steadying breath, and she flashes him a little smile that he can't quite find it in him to return just yet.

"sorry," he says quietly, and he is suddenly aware of how close he came just now. it wasn't going to be a breakdown, but... it's nothing his family needs to see. "i just," he says, louder, and he can feel everyone's eyes on him. "i just don't think it's right. it's candlenights."

"i know, bud," merle says, and magnus thinks he should maybe feel a little frustrated with the almost patronizing tone in merle's voice. "but we gotta let him handle this on his own as much as we can. that's what he asked of us, just a little time alone."

"can we compromise?" lup says, and all eyes go back to her. compromise is a strange word coming from either of the twins, but— ten years stuck in an umbrella might explain it a little, the way she tends a little more towards patience now than she did in the century previous.

"let's call him," she says. "if he doesn't answer, he doesn't answer, but let's at least leave him a message. just so he knows we're all here and we're thinking about him and we miss him. is that cool?"

merle heaves a sigh and shrugs. "i guess it can't hurt, i just... don't pressure him."

"well, i think lucretia should call," lup says.

lucretia looks over at her sharply, a little crease between her brows. "is that a good idea?"

"after everything?" lup says. "you've spent more time with him than any of us. you've got a better idea of what he's like now."

"he has absolutely no reason to trust me," lucretia says. "less than— than anyone!"

"okay," lup says easily, "so then he's free to decline if he wants to."

lucretia frowns deeper at her. "were you always so..."

"smart? devious?" lup says, and grins, sudden and wide. "oh, babe, i've always been a genius, just took some denim and a long time in an umbrella to figure out the like, emotional intelligence shit."

"do you embarrass me on purpose?" barry says, plaintively. "you do, right? you have to. you never say things like that when we're alone."

"i don't think we wanna know what she says to you when you're alone," magnus says weakly, and lup laughs, bold and big and _alive,_ and it makes them all feel a little better.

* * *

lucretia calls. taako and kravitz come back at some point afterwards, but if taako wants to know what they decided, he doesn't ask. he sits on the floor again and grabs angus by the sleeve and drags him into his lap. if this is at all weird, angus doesn't comment, doesn't even break stride in the sentence he had going before that.

magnus stays close to carey's side, feeling a little bit like angus in taako's lap, but neither carey nor killian has anything to say about it. he just feels better nearby her, and by lup, too. she may be taako's sister, but there's an energy in her that flows through them all, that lifts them up a little in ways they can't quite explain.

they call it early that night. mookie has managed to exhaust himself thoroughly by asking barry just about every question he can put together about ghosts, and he passes out shortly after the sun sets. most nights this wouldn’t slow them down, but after how the rest of the night has gone, it’s harder to justify accidentally waking up a child with a story about some ill-informed escapade from some tens of years ago. they also, magnus thinks, might be looking for somewhat of an excuse.

magnus isn’t quite ready to retire to his room, though, away from everyone and with them all out of sight. davenport’s absence is sitting heavy in his stomach now — like just acknowledging it was enough to set off a near permanent wave of anxiety. it simmers just below the surface, but he feels a little better in a room full of people, where he knows that they’re all okay and that he can protect them as urgently and quickly as he’s needed.

it’s just harder to justify sitting on the floor carving well into the night as more and more people fill his living room in the later hours. for starters, he really doesn't want to keep anyone up, and he does need a decent bit of light if he's going to avoid cutting off any fingers, and he's not particularly interested in answering questions about why he's not asleep when four am rolls around and he still hasn't given up yet. he's gotten pretty good at recognizing about how long he's going to be up by now, and more than that, he's fairly sure he's not gonna be out for long, either. lucretia still refuses to take his bed, but luckily, magnus has a suspicion that someone else might be easier to convince.

"please," he says, shoving a pillow at lup. "it'll make me feel better. i mean, i don't even know if you guys sleep, but like... at least let me pretend."

"ehh," lup says, shrugging. she does take the pillow, though, which is a good sign. "i mean, never really slept to begin with, and who gets any sleep with this guy next to you?"

you'd think that barry would have gotten used to comments like that, or grown at least a _little_ immune to their effects, but apparently not, judging by the color of his cheeks. "we sleep," he says, firmly. "well, i sleep. lup meditates. sometimes she sleeps. but we— we will be sleeping. we will be unconscious. in your bed."

"i was talking about your snoring, love," lup says, and tosses him a bright, wicked grin before looking back to magnus. "are you sure, mags? floor's fine, we really don't mind. slept worse places, i'm sure you know."

"i tried to get lucretia to take it and she refused," magnus says. "i just feel like a really shitty host if i don't— i mean, if i make literally everyone sleep on the floor and i've got this whole cushy bed to myself, you know? and like, i've got taako and krav in one, so like, between them and you two, that's maximizing the space, right? so..." he trails off, shrugging. it's awkward, yeah. but if anyone's going to be safe out of his sight, it's the two grim reapers and their boss and their— well. taako.

lup gives him a long look, like she's trying to make up her mind or decide if it's worth arguing about, and then she shrugs. "yeah, sure, why not. bare's got a hip thing he likes to pretend isn't happening, floor might not be _great._ "

"you try regrowing your body half a dozen times and let me know how it holds up," barry grumbles, but he doesn't protest further.

and that settles it. taako and kravitz are the first to give up for the night after mookie, though certainly not because they're going to bed. taako's attitude has only continued to deteriorate through the rest of the evening, although he's given up on fighting anyone and has instead fallen mostly silent and is flat out ignoring pretty much everyone except lup, kravitz, and angus. he and lucretia are back to opposite corners of the room, or as close to that as they can get. there's a guilty and shameful but palpably relieved air that slinks into the room when taako announces that he's going to bed.

lup and barry follow soon after, though magnus hears the door to the guest bedroom squeak open softly before he hears his own, some fifteen minutes later. by that time, the kids have settled down — mavis and angus are sharing the couch now, one on either end with their knees drawn up to their chests. it occurs to magnus as he's laying out blankets for himself on the floor that angus might not be able to do that for much longer, share like that, and it strikes him with a sudden and heavy feeling of responsibility that... well, he's not unfamiliar with, at this point.

he sets up his blankets on one end of the couch, but he stays sat up with his back against the front of the couch in front of angus until after everyone else has fallen asleep, or at least until they've all laid down and closed their eyes. merle starts snoring almost immediately, but he's just within reach, and magnus gives him a gentle push to roll him onto his side, with his flesh arm tucked underneath him, and he quiets after a moment.

magnus doesn't have any particular project he's working on at the moment, but he does have a handful of things he wants to put some details on, so he pulls out a few things from the big chest under steven's tank and goes to work. he lets the fire burn just low enough that he can see, stirring it back up every now and then to make sure it doesn't go out completely. even with the blankets and the increased body heat in the house, the cold is slowly seeping in. he wonders if lup's got some spell to keep the house a little warmer — he's got goosebumps, for sure, but it doesn't really _bug_ him, he just doesn't want anyone to catch a cold because he couldn't be bothered to invest in something a little more protective.

but aside from the cold, the den is... surprisingly more comfortable than his own bed. maybe it's just the nearby presence, the fact that he has merle and lucretia and the kids right there, just within reach. railsplitter and the rest of his better weapons are still in the bedroom, but he's got phantom fist in the chest with his carving things, and his knives may not be expert weapons, but they'll do in a pinch.

either way, he does feel a little better out here than he does so far away from them, wrapped up in blankets with his head on a soft pillow. it reminds him of nights in the felicity wilds with merle and taako and lich-barry, or the years where it took weeks to find the light, weeks of trekking and sleeping on the ground and bickering about who got to use which pillow and which bedroll belonged to who. it's easier to sleep with those memories in his head, though maybe it shouldn't be. maybe he should feel hounded by the fear that hung in the air back then, maybe he should feel unsettled and shaken remembering how uncertain everything was, but— he doesn't. he feels calm. he feels safe.

and he feels— well, he doesn't feel _tired._ but he feels like he could sleep, and maybe— maybe it would be okay. he does his rounds, just to check, just to be sure, and he puts his carving tools and his knives away before he settles down into his blanket bed and pulls the top one up to his chin. he leaves the fire burning, just for the warmth, though it's started to burn low. and then, finally, he closes his eyes, and he listens to the sounds of merle and mavis and mookie and angus and lucretia breathing and shifting until the world fades around him and he drifts off.

when he opens his eyes, the house is on fire.

"fuck," he gasps, and he bolts upright and reaches for angus, but his hand falls on nothing, just the blanket angus had fallen asleep with and the couch underneath it. he's gone — and so is everyone else. their blankets and pillows are right where they left them, but there's no one there, and their _stuff_ is gone, too. merle and lucretia's packs are gone, and angus's backpack, it's all gone.

magnus doesn't have time to think about why they would have run out without him — above him, one of the support beams in the ceiling cracks loudly, and he just barely has time to roll out of the way before it crashes down on top of the coffee table, only a foot or so away from where magnus had been lying a moment before.

he's panting, and the smoke is starting to burn. he coughs once, just to clear his lungs a little, and then drops low to the floor and breathes slowly and carefully, holding his breath as much as he can. he should leave, he knows. the logical thing to do is to get out and make sure no one outside needs him, that they're all safe, but what if the others in the bedrooms haven't made it? they could be outside already, but if he goes out to check and they aren't there it could be too late to go back in. he has no idea what that draft in the guest room will do to a fire like this, it could have spread too fast for even kravitz to get taako out in time.

and it's just— it isn't worth the risk. he has to be sure. and at the very least, he needs to try to get his weapons, even if it's stupid. the flaming raging sword will survive, he's sure, but the thought of railsplitter _gone_ — it aches, it _panics_ him. if not for taako and kravitz and lup and barry, then for his weapons that he can't replace. which is a poor, badly disguised excuse to start crawling towards the rooms where he last saw his friends, but he'll unpack the stupidity there later.

so he starts on his way, but the smoke is getting thicker, and the fire is getting hotter, and the walls are falling. it makes no sense, the fire should have started in the den, in the fireplace, it should be hotter and more dangerous out there, but the hallway has started to crumble from how long the flames have been burning, which is— _terrifying._ he has no idea what he'll find in there, but he can't stop, he has to be _sure,_ he has to _know,_ know that they're _okay_ —

the door to the guest room is cold, and that— that's almost worse. it makes no fucking sense, and magnus can barely see straight with how terrified that makes him. the doorknob is icy to the touch as he gets to his knees to grab hold of it, and when the door swings open—

it's empty.

taako and kravitz aren't there. and they never were, it almost seems. the bed is undisturbed. where just earlier, taako's bags and trunk were thrown open with clothes spilling out in every direction, the room is spotless and empty. he can feel the little bit of wind drift through the room, and it chills him to his very core even as the heat of the flames behind him threatens to boil him alive.

he doesn't understand. he climbs to his feet, stumbling, and he trips and nearly topples over as he reaches for the bed. his fingers tangle in the sheets and they crumble away to nothing, to dust and ash. the wind whips up in the room and it all goes flying, choking him like the smoke, and the fire rushes in—

he drops back to the floor just in time, as the flames billow up to the ceiling, crackling and popping in the air around him. he holds his breath and tucks his hands over the back of his neck, curled defensively in on himself until the flames subside a little, and he's left cowering on the floor as the room burns.

it makes no sense. it makes no _fucking_ sense, they were _here._ taako fought with lucretia, just this evening, just a few hours ago. lup and barry came and the family was all here, except for davenport, they were fucking _here._ but they're gone now, and nearly all evidence of them has disappeared, and the fire is going to take what's left—

but if anyone can handle a fire, it's lup. he can't give up, not yet, he needs to— he just needs to find lup. lup can quell the fire, and she'll— well, she might not have answers, but certainly nothing will have taken her. lup can't be _taken_ like that, so easily.

except that, inexplicably, she has.

magnus's bedroom is as empty as the last — except for where it's not. in the bed, tossing and turning, brow creased and panting, a sheen of sweat across his skin and the sheets in disarray, is... magnus.

and magnus — now magnus — can't breathe. he can't understand. the world twists, and his stomach goes with it, and he wants so bad to throw up, but he _can't,_ his body won't let him. he's shaking, and he can't _breathe,_ his lungs simply won't fill with air. there's smoke in his nose and his throat and his veins, and his body is dying. he's felt it before and it is as familiar now as it was a year ago, thirty years ago, fifty years ago, a hundred years ago. he knows this feeling, and it is inescapable, and he has no idea where his family is, and he knows that he is dying as surely as he knows that the magnus lying in his bed is dying, and there is nothing he can do to stop it.

but who will protect angus? who will help lucretia and taako? who will bring everyone back together? they'll scatter, because that's what birds do when something flutters into their midst. they'll take to the skies and there will be no one to watch merle's back except for two untrained kids, who will watch their father die and be powerless to stop it. there will be no one to save lucretia and taako from their own self-destructive tendencies, and kravitz will lose the only living thing he remembers ever having loved. lup will lose her brother. they'll all lose their sister, as lucretia turns in on herself, never forgiving herself, blaming herself until it's too late to bring her back. and without lucretia, carey and killian will drift from the rest of them, and there will be no one to reel davenport back in from sea.

and— magnus will be dead. and there won't be a body waiting for him, when lup goes mad with grief and barry is too focused on her to try to bring magnus back. and it wouldn't matter, because magnus will have no one to grab hold of his soul and shove it somewhere for safekeeping, until the time is right. magnus will be gone, and his family will go with him.

"mags," merle whispers.

magnus tries to turn, but he can't. his body is frozen, eyes locked on the magnus in the bed as he seizes and shakes, his eyes opening just enough to see them roll back in his head. magnus tries to call out for merle, tries to ask where he is, but he can't find the air to do it.

"magnus," merle says, more urgent. "wake up, bud."

"what's going on?" angus says, quiet and shaken and terrified, like he never should be. angus is too mature, too brave, he's too much like taako and too much like magnus and too much like merle. is it the fire that's scaring him? it shouldn't. magnus tries to tell him that and still can't speak.

"come here, kids," lucretia says, soft and surprisingly comforting. "mookie, give your father some room."

_wake up,_ magnus tries to tell the magnus in the bed, and merle says it too, out loud. "wake up, mags. open your eyes."

merle mutters something else, something magnus can't quite catch, and something warm washes over him — and he should give in, but he can't. the heat reminds him too much of the fire, and he fights it, as hard as he can, until he can't fight it anymore, and there's a hand on his forehead, and—

and as that wave washes over him, he feels... calm. he can breathe again. the smoke clears, the flames dissipate. he opens his eyes.

and he sees merle, leaning over him, face lit by the gentle light of what fire still remains in the hearth. he's not wearing his eyepatch, dressed in pajamas, and he's leaning awkwardly on his wood arm with his fingers pressed to magnus's forehead. when magnus opens his eyes, merle cracks a smile. "there ya are," he says, and sits back.

magnus coughs, the smoke still in his lungs but— there is no smoke. there never was.

nightmare, he realizes, and a horrible, disgusting, sinking feeling settles into his stomach.

he struggles to sit up, and his head _aches_ with a pound he wasn't prepared for. "careful," merle says, as magnus presses his palm heavily into one of his eyes, trying to stave off the ache. "hit your head on the coffee table there, bud, lay back down and i'll take care of that."

magnus coughs again and lets himself flop back down onto the blankets. merle's calming spell washes over him again, and the shameful little bubbling in his stomach fades and disappears. he realizes, distantly, that he'll feel bad about it again later. but for right now— his head just hurts.

merle grabs magnus's wrist with his wooden hand and the familiar feeling of merle's cool, natural magic flows through him, until the ache in his head disappears as well. afterwards, magnus takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes again.

"hey," he says, out loud.

"hey yourself," merle says. he gives magnus's arm another pat and then sits back again, arms crossed. "doin' okay there?"

"fine," magnus says, weary. he rubs at his eyes — the shame may be gone, but he's still not quite ready to look any of them in the eyes. he actually doesn't know if lucretia and the kids are still in the room, but he doesn't want to look and find out, either. he drops his arms on top of his chest, keeps his eyes closed. "i forgot to put out the fire."

that feels— uncomfortably close to a confession, although as soon as that fear hits him, it's dissolved by the calming spell, too. "hm," merle says, which reveals absolutely nothing. "want me to put it out?"

"no," magnus says. "i don't— you guys'll get cold. it's fine. just... bad dream."

merle is quiet for a moment. when he speaks, finally, his voice is low and quiet and private. "you want some tea?"

it's not just an offer for some caffeine and a chance to get out of the room, magnus knows. it's an offer to talk, and that— it's nice. it's good. it's a merle kind of thing to do, to let him get away from everyone and try to talk this out, but...

but magnus remembers the letter that he never sent. he remembers taako trying to _help,_ he remembers taako and merle under the oak tree, talking about— about something. he remembers angus's careful eyes on him. he remembers kravitz telling him taako is _worried,_ he remembers the look on merle's face when he told him the house wasn't so empty anymore.

"no," magnus says again, but he does sit up. "thank you, merle. i'm fine. i'm just... i'm gonna go, uh, walk, or something. just clear my head. i'm fine. thank you."

"you sure?" merle says. "it's not a problem."

"i'm fine," magnus says. he glances to the left, and lucretia is there, still, with mookie in her lap, and mavis is sitting up in her spot on the couch. angus is sitting on the floor next to lucretia, and his face is pale and afraid, and magnus _hates_ that look more than anything else that's happening right now. he's afraid— not _of_ magnus, but _for_ magnus, and that's not _right._ it's magnus's job to protect them, all of them, that is the only thing he has ever been tasked with doing, and right now— he's scaring them. he's scaring angus.

he's up on his feet before he can even really process it, but he moves too quickly and sways a little, only just managing to stay upright. lucretia makes a little noise like she wants to let go of mookie and grab him, and angus's eyes go wide. merle doesn't move.

"put your coat on before you go out," merle says. "looked like it might snow overnight, not sure if it did."

his voice is so calm and even, but magnus can feel merle's spell fading much faster than it should, even as he fights to keep it laid over magnus's mind. he shakes his head hard, like that will clear it somehow, and takes two careful steps off the blankets. his feet feel better with the wood floor underneath them, but he'll feel better all over when he's _out of this fucking room._

merle says something else to him, but magnus doesn't process it enough for it to even reach his brain. he does grab his coat, and he shoves his feet into his boots and is out the door before anyone else can speak.

there's no snow, not yet, but the stars are blotted out by dark clouds. for a second, magnus remembers stars going out, and the world encased in inescapable darkness, broiling with anger and hunger, and he _needs_ railsplitter so bad, he _needs_ to feel its grip in his hands, because he can't summon fireworks and lightning and torrential rain, because he is powerless without a physical weapon and something to swing it at.

and then the slow breeze pushing the clouds in slides through the branches of the oak tree, and the rattling of the leaves settles him, a little. it reminds him where he is, and when, and why, and he makes himself swallow down the acidic feeling in his throat and cross over to the tree.

he plops down by the roots, feeling heavy and exhausted. he wants to go back to sleep. he wants no one to have seen that. inside the house, a light flicks on, through the window in his bedroom, facing out the front of the house. he groans and buries his face in his hands.

somehow, though, it feels better in the cold. he digs his fingers into his eyes, scratches at the edges of his beard where it's getting untamed. he tries, so fucking desperately, to feel something that is not the disgust in his stomach — disgust at himself, at his body and his brain for betraying him. guiltily, disgust at merle, for not _stopping_ that somehow.

which— that's not right. that's not fair. magnus is being unkind, he's just tired and embarrassed and upset, and it's not merle's fault. it's not merle's fault that magnus is _broken_ at night. it's not merle's fault that there's something wrong with him, that he can't sleep, that when he does sleep he dreams only of his family dying, of everyone he's ever known and loved disappearing from the world, and taking their light and their brightness with them.

but, god, that's not even a fucking nightmare, is it? because it's happened. because his family has died, because julia and steven are gone, and one day— one day his family is going to die again. magnus may not be the first to die, but he will go early, because he is human and reckless and because he _cannot_ let someone else get hurt in his place. he just— can't.

and when he's gone, they will protect each other, hopefully, but magnus needs to keep them together until then, and so far... so far he's doing a pretty shit job. not just lucretia and taako, but davenport, and the fact that _apparently,_ none of them talked for weeks before he called merle in the first place. and this is what happens, when magnus can't keep them under his watchful eye. taako can complain all he wants, but it only makes sense that lucretia needs to keep them all together, that lucretia wants davenport here, where she can see him, because how else can they know he's safe? how else can magnus protect them?

it's just like julia, all over again. of course it is, magnus should have learned his lesson the first time. he should never have left for neverwinter, he should have been there — been _here,_ in raven's roost. because then julia wouldn't have died, steven wouldn't have died, magnus could have been here, to protect them, to get them out, to fight—

his mind _twists_ sickeningly, and he only just has time to throw himself forward onto his hands and knees before he's throwing up. it's only once, but it feels like something has been ripped out of him, and by the time he's come out of it, he can barely remember what caused it in the first place.

but he's crying now, from the ache in his stomach and his throat and from the fear and the tension that's running all down his spine, and once he realizes it, he can't stop. he falls back onto his feet, knees cracking as he goes, and he cries. his shoulders shake, and he cries, and cries, and cries.

overhead, the clouds break. it starts to snow, and magnus sits on the bare ground underneath the oak tree outside his house and cries, and for hours, he is alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me in the comments or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia/) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia). see you next week!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter: panic attacks, all standing cws
> 
> this chapter contains one of the scenes i'm most proud of in this entire fic (it's the scene with taako and magnus if anyone's wondering). hope you enjoy!

when the sun comes up, magnus finally moves. he's freezing, still in just his coat and pajamas and a pair of boots, but he can't bring himself to go back inside until the first rays of warmth drift over the horizon and start to warm him. there's snow on the ground around him and melting into the seat of his pants, which is... well, it's not great. and the warmth of the sun is reminding him that inside, everyone is probably freezing, and no one has come out to grab more firewood, most likely because magnus is out here like a stationary rain cloud scaring everyone away from braving the outdoors. so, feeling a little damp and more than a little heavy, he forces himself to his feet and drags his way over to the piles of firewood around the side of the house, and then heads back inside.

he doesn't know what he expects — some assembled tribunal, some council of people-who-care-about-magnus gathered on the couch and discussing in quiet, furtive tones just exactly what to do about magnus's barely concealed mental breakdown, but that's not what he finds. instead, he walks inside to laughter, to barry and lup and taako on the couch, lup cuddled up against barry's side with her legs tossed over his thighs, and taako curled up in a corner of the couch. he walks inside to merle with mookie in his lap and mavis and angus once again buried in a pile of caleb cleveland novels. he walks inside to lucretia engaged in quiet but pleasant conversation with kravitz, and the smell of something nice wafting from the kitchen.

"hey bud, there you are," taako says as he walks in. "there's coffee in the kitchen, and can you turn that burner off or shit's gonna burn."

"um," magnus says, standing stock still in the doorway with his arms full of wood. "everyone's awake?"

which feels like a stupid question afterwards, because obviously, and he's only going to invite some uncomfortable discussion by alluding to the reason for it like that, but no one seems fazed.

"did _you_ just wake up, homie?" taako asks, and sips from his own mug. "why are you wet?"

"well that's just impolite to ask," lup says, and taako snickers into his coffee, while barry goes bright red.

"um," magnus says. "it snowed."

angus's head shoots up, eyes wide. "there's snow?" he asks, face bright with— well, with childlike glee, which is a little strange even on the face of someone so young.

"um," magnus says, again. "yeah, but— it's pretty cold, and you should probably bundle up, and like, eat, first—"

"oh hell no," lup says, and she climbs out of barry's lap and sets her mug on the coffee table. "that shit'll melt by the time we eat. c'mon bare, it's fucking snowing!"

magnus lets himself be pushed out of the way by the crowd of children and child-minded adults rushing the front door. they shove their way into boots and slip on coats that are almost certainly not heavy enough for the cold and the wet outside, but magnus is a little too bewildered by the whole situation to say anything.

even taako goes, which is surprising, and kravitz excuses himself from his conversation with lucretia to head follow him. in fact, mavis and lucretia seem to be the only ones not overly enthused by the first snow of the season, and mavis sighs heavily as she turns back to the book she's pilfered from angus.

"do you need some help with that?" lucretia offers, stepping up and holding out her hands for the wood in magnus's arms.

"no," he says quickly — maybe a little too quick, but lucretia doesn't comment. "it— it's fine, i've got it. i'll just, uh—"

he steps around her and hurries for the fire, where he dumps his armload down to the side of the hearth and then heads for the kitchen to turn off the burner before his nightmare becomes real. there is in fact coffee on the other burner, kept magically warm, he assumes. he thinks that at this point he should probably really be avoiding caffeine, but he also feels like he might not make it through the day if he doesn't get _some_ in his system.

he seats himself at the table after that, feeling— well, a bit like the wind has been knocked out of him. he drinks his coffee slowly, feeling distant and tired. he doesn't know what kind of fallout he was expecting. maybe merle and lucretia didn't say anything, but he has a hard time believing the kids kept his little episode to themselves, and even if they did... well, angus doesn't keep secrets from taako, he's pretty sure.

maybe they just know he's embarrassed, but... he has a hard time believing that taako would just let this slide by. maybe, he supposes, after the thing the other night, with the cocoa, but it's _taako._ magnus has yet to see him keep his mouth shut about an opinion even once in close to a hundred and fifteen years.

the door opens behind him and startles him out of his thoughts as barry walks in, giving him a gentle smile as he crosses around the table. "hey," he says. "not interested in heading out to get soaked and freezing?"

"i think i did enough of that already," magnus says. he really should change, he thinks, but his body is far too heavy to make it out of the chair right now. "what about you? lup let you come back inside?"

barry sighs. "only to pull her biscuits out of the oven," he says, and bends to do just that. the smell that bursts from the oven door when he opens it is— unreal. it's warm and buttery and cheesy and magnus's stomach rumbles with a force he wasn't expecting.

barry laughs then, open and happy, and it's a sound that magnus hasn't really _heard_ in a long time. not since those first years after the legato conservatory, he thinks, when he and lup first worked out their stuff. in the later years, things were tense and the two of them were quiet and secretive, and then lup disappeared, and then— well.

it's not fair, magnus thinks, to define barry by his relationship with lup, but it's hard not to when it's so obvious how she's changed him. she's made him happier, sure, but he's also a lot less reserved than he used to be. he's braver, he's bolder, he laughs more and hides less. it's not the same as what julia did for magnus, but it reminds him of that, just a little. it reminds him of loving and being loved in return, and being just a little bit better of a person for it.

"i'm sure taako and lup will remember breakfast in a minute," barry says. "i think they've got like, a sixth sense just for food. like, they don't even have a timer on any of this stuff, but somehow she knows that the biscuits are ready? honestly, i'm surprised she lets me take this stuff out on my own."

barry talks to himself some more while he putters around the kitchen, following explicit instructions from lup, magnus is sure. the talking to himself is kind of cute, really, if he doesn't think too much about how it's probably a habit, leftover from the years where he couldn't trust anything but his own voice.

finally, barry sighs and sags into one of the chairs across from magnus, a fresh cup of coffee in his hands. he smiles at him again, a little weak and a little tired, and takes a long, slow sip of his coffee. they sit in what magnus thinks probably feels like comfortable silence to barry, but for magnus— he suddenly realizes he just wants to leave.

it's not barry's fault. magnus is just... he's tired. he feels hollowed out and exposed and embarrassed and exhausted. he wants to go lie down, but he knows there's no point. sleep won't come, and if it does, it won't last long enough to revitalize him. he wonders if sleeping in his own bed might not actually be better if it means he won't embarrass the fuck out of himself in front of everyone, but he's not about to kick lup and barry out of the bed he offered them in the first place. maybe he just won't sleep tonight. it won't fix anything, but at least he won't— at least all that won't happen again.

barry sighs and leans back in his chair, opens his mouth like he's about to say something, then stops himself. the action distracts magnus just enough to knock him back out of his thoughts again, and he waits, but barry stays quiet, staring down into his coffee. magnus gives up waiting and just looks down and sips from his own coffee.

"hey, magnus," barry says then, and he sounds a little uncertain, a little scared. magnus goes very still. "you, uh..."

and magnus waits — again. barry is still staring into his coffee, and he pulls one hand away and stares down at that instead, wiggling his fingers a little and watching the motion with a frown. then, finally, after a beat, he shakes his head and sighs again and says, "never mind. sorry."

magnus is pretty sure that this is barry's awkward way of trying to bring up what happened last night. he was not voted representative for this conversation, magnus knows, but barry is a good guy and he cares about the people in his life and he genuinely cares that magnus is okay. he's just... not really a people person.

but even with that knowledge, magnus can't quite bring himself to ignore the frightened little tinge to his voice, so he licks his lips slowly and says, "you good, bare?"

barry laughs quietly, like the noise was shaken out of him kind of suddenly. "yeah," he says, but he won't look up and meet magnus's eyes. he grips his coffee cup with both hands and says, "it's, um. don't worry about it. i was gonna— ask you something, but i don't... i don't know if i'm, um."

the right person to talk about it, magnus finishes in his head. "okay," he says. "well. i mean... i'm not going anywhere."

which is not what he should say. he does not want to have this conversation, not with anyone, but certainly not with barry, who is clearly uncomfortable enough already without magnus baring all his problems to him. but just on the off chance that this is literally anything else, magnus can't leave him without the option.

barry does look up then, and he gives magnus another small smile and pushes his glasses up his nose. "thanks, magnus," he says, and he sounds so... sincere. magnus doesn't know what to make of that.

it occurs to him, then, that the world does not revolve around him. this is not new information — the world and the universe were not carved out with the shape of magnus burnsides planned within. magnus has a particular relationship with lady fate that most people in this world could not lay claim to, but even so, he has a hard time believing that any world included his predetermined fate. he is not so important to the fabric of existence that he believes that to be true.

but this is true on a smaller scale, as well. yeah, right now his family is worried about him. taako and merle will almost certainly have a quiet, furtive discussion about what the fuck is wrong with magnus exactly, and lup will probably get involved, and who knows where it will go from there. but the fact is, they've all got their own fucking problems, and not all of them involve magnus, or even require him to participate to fix them.

he thinks that should make him feel better, to know that maybe people aren't going to be so fixated on what's going on with him that it will distract them from all other purpose in life, but right now it just makes him feel... lonely.

if barry notices the shift in magnus's mood, though, he doesn't comment. they both go back to their coffee, and the room falls quiet.

* * *

carey and killian show up after breakfast again, pinkies linked as they walk up the slope. magnus is so intensely grateful for carey's presence in a way he could not describe — to have someone nearby who is not linked to him through a century of trauma feels _incredibly_ important right now. to have someone who didn’t witness his nightmare and successive breakdown, and didn’t wake up this morning thinking about what the fuck is wrong with him — he thinks that's what he really needs right now.

carey doesn't comment on how tight magnus sticks to her, and the day is... easier. magnus isn't avoiding his family, he just isn't quite ready to deal with all of that. okay, maybe he's avoiding merle. it's not on purpose. it's _really_ not.

but other than magnus's funky mood, the day is fine. the snow does indeed melt, and then it is both too cold and too wet to go back outside. being stuck indoors all day with so many people maybe isn't optimal, but magnus has a decent stash of board games to keep them entertained, and no one goes too crazy.

he does make a few trips out to the firewood stash, just to make sure they have enough inside. he very stubbornly does not think about the nightmare, about the flames and his missing family, and that's— that's fine. it's fine.

carey accompanies him on one of these trips, and when she does, he knows it's coming. he's stuck close to her side, but there's no way she hasn't heard. she's had enough space away from him to have heard from _someone_ by now. so he knows what she's going to say, knows that when they get halfway out to the wood pile and the cold mud is sploshing under their boots, that she's going to open her mouth and say, "mags."

he resigns himself to it. "yeah?"

"can we talk about it?" she says, and he stops in his tracks.

she stops, too, and they're both quiet for a second. "i know it's kind of a shit place to do it," she says. "but like... i just wanna hear it from you, bud. everyone's worrying."

"i wish they wouldn't," magnus says.

"yeah," carey says. "i know. but you know that like—" and she breaks off, and huffs, and reaches out and grabs magnus by the elbow and pulls him around to face her. she's frowning deeply, and it makes magnus want to hug her and ask what's wrong, but he already knows.

and then her face softens, and she just looks... sad. "you know that i'm only asking because i care, right?" she says.

magnus feels himself deflate a little, and he pulls his arm free of her grasp just enough to take her hand and lace their fingers together. "i know," he says.

"mags," carey says. "i don't have to tell anyone anything, okay? if this is like... if you're embarrassed, or whatever, like. okay. i get it. but you don't— i don't want you to deal with shit on your own, okay?"

magnus takes a deep breath and lets go of her hand. his arm falls back to his side, and so does hers, and they both stand there, maybe a foot and a half apart. magnus takes another deep breath in, then lets it out.

"i just—" he starts, and then cuts himself off. he looks down at the ground, and kicks at the mud a little. "i don't... i don't want anyone to worry. it's— i feel like if i start telling people about it, then it's gonna— it's gonna be a bigger thing than it is, because everyone's gonna wanna _make_ it into a thing."

"it kind of sounds like it might already be a thing," carey says. "from what merle said, and from what taako's been saying."

great, magnus thinks. so they have been talking about him. awesome. fucking wonderful.

he tries to restrain some of the frustration and anger that flares up at that — they're only worried about him, he knows. he has no right to be angry. he worries about them, doesn't he? but it's not the same, really, is it? magnus has nightmares, okay. big deal. taako has a decade's worth of solitude induced trauma and merle lost an arm and an eye and is somehow making being a dad and being a businessman and being an adventurer work all at the same time. that's— magnus's shit is _nothing._

"hey," carey says, and she reaches for his hand again, but he pulls it away as soon as he feels her fingers brush his. "magnus. stop. c'mon. it's not like everyone's sitting around gossiping, okay? this is your fucking family we're talking about. you think i don't know what that's like? i _know_ what family is like."

"not this one," magnus says, and it's colder than he means it to be, and he regrets it instantly, but if it makes her _stop_ then... he's not going to take it back.

carey huffs loudly. "okay," she says. "all right, be a dick. i kinda thought maybe i was included in the family, like, a little. like the world saving did kind of involve me and my fucking wife, and you were all kind of at our wedding, and like, i get that you're frustrated and embarrassed or whatever but maybe... don't fucking treat me like that."

magnus should back down, he should let her win, but he _can't._ he just cannot have this conversation, not now, not with carey, not ever or with anyone. "it's not about that," he says. "you just don't understand what they're like. you don't get it."

"then fucking tell me!" carey says, a little louder and a little angrier. "explain it to me so i can fucking do something about it instead of watching my best friend turn into a different fucking person!"

"i'm not a different person!" magnus snaps, and he turns back on her, the anger flaring higher now. he can feel his stance getting defensive, he catches himself reaching for his belt when he knows there's nothing there but a small woodworking knife, and what the _fuck_ is he doing, this is _carey,_ but he's too— he's too far gone, he's too upset, and it _isn't_ her business, and how dare she accuse him of changing? he hasn't changed. he's magnus. he's always been magnus, even when he wasn't, and she didn't know him before he wasn't magnus, so what does it matter to her anyway?

"yes, you are," carey says, and it takes all of magnus's restraint not to lash out at her, physically or verbally or— he doesn't know. carey stares at him with her eyes burning with frustration and says, "you've _changed_ , magnus, you're not acting like yourself! you think no one notices how quiet you are? that's on top of the fact that you either don't sleep or you have nightmares or—"

"stop," magnus says, low and serious and growling. "carey, i swear, stop it. i'm so fucking serious, just— stop."

"you think no one notices how fucking paranoid you've gotten?" carey goes on, bowling right over him. "you think i didn't notice you almost pull a fucking knife on me just now?"

magnus— magnus almost hits her, then. his hand is balled into a fist before he can stop it, and his arm tenses, and his shoulder twitches, and—

and she stares him dead in the eyes, her expression stoic and serious but _fiery_ on the inside, burning, and _daring_ him, and all the energy drains out of him. he uncurls his fingers slowly, one at a time, and turns away. he feels his shoulders sag, and suddenly he just... wants to cry. again.

"hey," carey says, softer now. she steps closer, but she doesn't touch him this time. "magnus. please. just talk to me. we can't— i can't help if you don't let me in. if you talk to me, i swear, i won't tell anyone else, i won't even tell killian. anything you say is just between us."

magnus opens his mouth — to say what, he doesn't know. in my nightmares, everyone dies, he thinks. in real life, i'm terrified that it'll actually happen. that's what keeps me up at night, the idea that if i don't lock all the doors, then something terrible is going to happen to me, and so something terrible is going to happen to everyone i love, because i won't be around to protect them.

but how the fuck does he say that and not sound crazy? how does he tell her what's wrong without letting her know how _fucked_ up he is?

he glances up at her, and she's watching him, her face sorrowful and empathetic and _hurting_ , hurting for him.

and he can't say it.

"i can't," he says. "i—" and he doesn't know what else to say.

carey looks for a second like she wants to keep fighting. she's probably thinking about provoking him again, and magnus thinks they might actually get somewhere if they started throwing punches, but they both know that's probably not the greatest idea. he can see it in carey's eyes when she gives up, and she looks down and sighs and shakes her head.

"okay," she says, and she sounds so... sad. it makes magnus feel so guilty he almost wants to give up and just _say it,_ but his tongue won't move like that.

and then she takes a deep breath, and when she lets it out, she stands a little taller and holds her shoulders back a little. "okay," she says again. "well. you know where to find me."

he smiles at her. it’s weak and tired, but he smiles. "yeah," he says. "i do."

"okay," she says, one more time. she’s not smiling like he is, but she grabs his hand again. "let's get these losers some wood."

* * *

magnus knows better than to think that's the last of it, but thankfully everyone gets distracted by the davenport thing again. or maybe not thankfully — it kind of sucks for magnus, too, to be completely honest. they are exactly three days out from the night of candlenights proper, and magnus still does not have his whole family gathered.

davenport has not called lucretia back, just like he didn't call merle back. even taako has to admit that it's kind of— not great. that it's not amazing, not knowing where davenport is, or if he's okay, or getting any sort of response at _all._

calling again seems pointless, but they do it anyway. they all gather around lucretia and her pendant, her emergency only stone, and they go very quiet while she holds it up to her mouth. she calls out to him, and there is no response.

"captain," she says again. "davenport. it's me. just— give me a call back, okay? or merle. or someone. everyone's here, and... it's almost candlenights."

"and we miss you," magnus chimes in. everyone looks at him sharply, but he refuses to look back at any of them, eyes fixed on lucretia's pendant.

"and we miss you," lucretia echoes. "we're all at magnus's, so... if you want to make an appearance, that's where we'll be."

her stone does not glow with response. they all wait a few long seconds, and when nothing comes through, taako huffs and gets up and says, "well, that was a waste of fucking time. so now what? you all wanna go looking for him?"

"and start where?" barry says, and magnus flinches a little. it sounds too much like a conversation he's heard before between the two of them.

"yeah, i was joking, barold," taako says, a little venomously. lup elbows him and he mutters something like _sorry_ and leans into kravitz's side a little tighter.

"whether you were serious or not," lucretia says, and it might be the first time she's addressed taako directly since she arrived, "you're right. we wouldn't know where to look even if we tried."

lup shifts uncomfortably, and reaches absentmindedly for taako's hand — he takes it without a thought, despite the awkward little moment between them just seconds before. "so what _do_ we do?” she asks.

"i still think we're runnin' on an awful lot of assumptions here," merle says. he's sat on the floor in front of the coffee table across from lucretia, rubbing thoughtlessly at the spot where wood meets flesh. "i get that we're worried, but dav's... he's different now. i don't think it _really_ surprises anyone too much that he's out of contact."

"different doesn't mean stupid," lup says. "he wouldn't just disappear. he'd leave word. he would _say_ something, at least just something to tell us that he's okay. like 'hey, i’ll be back—'"

barry makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and lup looks over at him, frowning. "what?"

"nothing," barry says, but they're all thinking the same thing he is. "no one happens to know like, the _last_ place he was, do we?"

"even if we did," lucretia says, "we'd have the entirety of the world's oceans to search. he's built a pretty solid engine on that thing, he could be anywhere."

"great," taako says. "so we're fucked. dav’s missing and he could be literally anywhere and candlenights is ruined. what the fuck are we gonna do about it?"

taako says it— not thoughtlessly. that's how taako thinks, he thinks worst case and turns it into best case, and he can't possibly know that when he says that, it hits magnus in the chest like a bolt out of a crossbow. he feels it in his chest and his ribs and his heart and it fucking _hurts,_ because taako's right. davenport is missing and they have no idea where he is or how to find him, and candlenights is fucking ruined.

magnus has to sit there grinding his teeth just to hold himself back from panicking. he focuses very, very hard on the ache in his jaw, the way his tongue feels too big for his mouth when it catches between his teeth. it’s not a pleasant feeling — but it's better than the deep, inky sensation that's settling into his lungs. it's a little less terrifying than _that._

he has no idea what conclusion they come to, because he makes himself stop paying attention. he sits in his armchair until taako and kravitz get up and leave the room, and lup and barry follow them, and merle goes to get the kids from the kitchen where they're tucking into dessert, and lucretia heads for the bathroom to wash up before bed.

and magnus stands up, and he doesn't— he doesn't really know where he's going to go. he's not sleeping, he knows that. he's not going to take the bed from lup and barry, but he's not going to embarrass himself in front of everyone again, and he's _certain_ that another nightmare is bound to come for him, with the way he feels right now. and that’s if he even gets to sleep in the first place.

he ends up outside. he thinks he originally came out for more wood, but he can't remember if he brought it back in, if he stoked the fire back alive. he thinks he would remember that — he doesn't particularly like the thought of fire right now. he ends up sitting himself down among the roots of the oak tree again, staring up at the sky.

it's clearer tonight. he likes that he can see the stars. it helps, a little, to remember that the hunger didn't win. _they_ won. they beat it. the hunger is gone now.

except — it makes him feel a little empty, too, and he doesn’t know what that says about him.

he sits there and counts the stars until the fog clears a little from his head. it's absolutely freezing outside, and he's just in a pair of flannel pants and a thin shirt and his coat and his boots, but he doesn't want to go back inside. he doesn’t want to wake anyone up, doesn’t want to have to explain himself, doesn’t want to pretend to sleep — or worse, actually fall asleep.

so he stays underneath his tree, and he stares up at the sky and lets the slow cold wind slide around him and off of him. he closes his eyes and listens to the wind, and to the quiet noises of animals rustling in the surrounding areas. he rests his head against the bark of the tree and lets the sounds of nature take him, lets the world fall into silence around him except for the rustling and the breeze and his own quiet breaths.

it is only because he is so quiet and attuned to everything around him that he catches it — this is probably the closest he's getting to sleep, he knows, and that's always when he's the most _aware._ that's when he remembers to check the locks, when the draft in the guest room pokes at his ribs. that's when he remembers the fire burning higher than he should maybe safely leave it, that's when—

now, this is when he hears it.

he has no idea how much time has passed, but his eyes snap open. he can't precisely identify the sound, not at first. it's soft and crunching, like footsteps, but too small to be human or elf or dragonborn or orc, and there's no lights on in the house or anyone approaching from that direction. but it's too purposeful, too heavy for an animal, and magnus holds his breath and he _knows_ — this is what his mind and his body have been preparing him for.

he has only the knife at his belt, but slowly he reaches for it anyway. if they're watching, he doesn't want to draw attention — or maybe he should just go for it, he thinks. maybe just... just wait a second, and they won't know he has a weapon on him, they won't be prepared when he strikes.

they're here for his family. or for him, but for his family, indirectly. whoever's out there — they want to hurt him. they want to hurt the people inside his house, sleeping in his den and his guest room and his _bed._ they want to hurt and they want to kill, and magnus knows this without question.

it's only carey's patient, patient training and a hundred years of memories that keep him from jumping to his feet now. it's taako's influence that makes him close his eyes and lean his head back, the picture of obliviousness. it's lucretia's influence that has him finely tuning his hearing, reaching all the way to the edges of his senses to grasp for anything.

merle is the reason he knows the difference between the rustling of the plants and the distant pacing of the animals and the soppy, wet sound of fresh snow crushed into still drying mud. barry is the reason magnus knows to fear them, and also the reason he knows he has to stop them. and davenport—

davenport says, "magnus?"

he doesn't have time to process that, because the voice is too close, and magnus lets loose a roar he didn't know he was keeping in. he has his knife in his hand and his arm drawn back, and he leaps to his feet and barrels around the edge of the tree towards that voice — but he misses. he's expecting them to be taller, but his arms close around nothing in his attempt to tackle them to the ground.

he only just hears the "whoa!" as he trips over his own momentum and lands face down in the mud. he's spitting it from his teeth still when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he whips around onto his back, and—

a red jacket. weathered, street wise eyes, narrow shoulders, stocky stature, close cropped hair— _a red jacket._

"oh, fuck," magnus whispers.

davenport leans forward and reaches for magnus's hand. "sorry," he says, and his voice is like— oh gods, it's like hearing lup's voice. it is a desperately needed reminder of when and where and who they are.

"i shouldn't have snuck up on you like that," davenport says, "but you looked like you were sleeping. i was afraid to wake you up."

"i wasn't asleep," magnus says, a little dully. the knife is still in his hand, but now he's afraid to put it away and draw attention.

davenport. _davenport._ davenport is _here,_ and magnus— magnus tried to— to _attack_ him, magnus tried to _kill_ him, and yeah, it was in defense, sure, davenport was sneaking up on him, but—

davenport is _here._

"oh, gods," magnus whispers, and his throat is so fucking hoarse. he sits up, damn the mud, and grabs davenport by the shoulders and drags him in, rough and desperate. "you're here," he whispers. "oh, fuck, you're _here._ "

davenport laughs a little and pats magnus's back. "yeah, magnus," he says. his arms don't reach all the way around him, and they never have, even though sometimes magnus's memory says they should. but still, his embrace is warm and familiar at the same time that it's— strange. magnus doesn't remember hugging davenport much in the past, even outside the years where he was gone, or magnus was gone, or where the two of them were together for long stretches of time with no one else.

"sorry i'm late," davenport says. he gives magnus's back another pat and pulls back, but magnus won't let him go more than arm's length, because he won't take his hands off his shoulders. it occurs to him suddenly that this— this might be a dream. magnus might have nodded off under the tree after all, and this might be a nightmare.

but rarely do his dreams start off so pleasant, so. maybe not.

"we called you," magnus says, as his brain slowly tries to catch up with the rest of him. "like— like four times, or something."

davenport winces. "um. yeah. i was— uh, i was out on a little fishing raft, and, um. my stone had a mishap. haven't had the chance to get a new one." something about his tone tells magnus all he needs to know — he's had time, he's just not sure he _wants_ to replace it.

"but you—" magnus cuts himself off, frowning deeply as he studies davenport's face. "when did that happen? how did you know to come here?"

davenport shrugs. "there's, um, there's a port to the west. looked up at the sky one day and realized what time of year it was and figured everyone had plans, and... well, i haven't been the best about keeping up with plans like that, so... i would apologize but i don't think you would accept it. but i thought… if anyone knows what’s up for candlenights, it's going to be magnus."

that's— magnus doesn't know what to make of that. is that how people see him? is he the guy who _knows?_ is he the guy that's in the loop? is magnus the plan guy? he always saw himself as more of an action guy, but if that's—

"so here i am," davenport says, and he smiles, soft and a little— scared? and magnus still has his hands on his shoulders, and suddenly he needs to be holding him again. never mind that they're still in the mud and dirt, and magnus is freezing and wet and disgusting from his fall. and never mind that he hasn't really _asked_ and he doesn't really _know_ how davenport feels about all this close contact, because thankfully davenport goes easily into his arms.

and that's— that's all of them. that's all of them that magnus has held in his arms again, and he's felt them breathing and warm and alive. he's felt them against his chest and in his hands, he's heard the sounds of their voices and he knows they're— they're okay.

"sorry to fall out of touch, bud," davenport says, his face pressed into magnus's shoulder. "i know— i'm sure everyone's not too happy with me. i needed... i needed some time to myself. i think i still do."

magnus swallows down something heavy and thick in his throat and tucks davenport's face a little closer into him. "it's okay," he says, and his voice breaks a little. "i know. i think— we all need different stuff."

davenport just makes a little noise of agreement, and they stay like that for a while, until davenport starts shivering and they pull back. davenport smiles at him again then, and it's still soft and sad and scared, like he's waiting for magnus to push him away. he studies magnus's face for a moment while magnus studies his, and relearns the lines and the weathering of his face, and then, finally, davenport says, "what are you doing out here, bud? it's freezing."

"fresh air," magnus says. it occurs to him suddenly that davenport has nothing with him — just his wand tucked into his belt and the clothes on his back and a small pack over his shoulders. "did you even bring anything with you?"

davenport shrugs. "not much chance to accumulate anything out at sea," he says. and not much chance to accumulate anything for the last ten years, he doesn't say.

"yeah," magnus says, quiet. he says nothing for a moment, then clears his throat. "um. do you wanna come inside? i— everyone's here. merle and the kids and lucretia and taako and kravitz and lup and barry and angus and—"

"i think anything's better than cold and wet," davenport says, which isn't— there are some implications there. that maybe going inside and seeing everyone isn't the best option for him, either, but he'll do it if that's the alternative to freezing.

"right," magnus says, and he climbs to his feet. he is suddenly very aware of his discomfort, his clothes sticking to him and his boots full of _wet,_ but he leads the way back to the house.

inside, everyone is still asleep — except for angus, who is sitting up on the couch, eyes wide. "sir?" he says when magnus walks in. "is everything okay? i heard— oh!"

when davenport steps around magnus, into the space inside, angus's eyes go very wide and his mouth opens into a little 'o'. and then— he smiles, and it's such a big, bold, mature look, none of that childlike glee he gets sometimes, and magnus has to struggle for a moment to remember that angus is still only twelve.

"hello, mr. davenport, sir!" angus chirps, hopping up and running across the room to shake davenport's hand enthusiastically. he's starting to wake the others now — lucretia stirs a little, a frown crossing her face as her eyes flutter open. merle’s snoring has gone silent as he rolls onto his side and squints through the dim light. mavis on the opposite side of the couch from angus looks very put out, and mookie— well, mookie stays dreaming on.

"davenport?" lucretia says faintly, and davenport glances her way— and then away again quickly, down at the floor and then up at angus as they shake hands.

magnus watches — and he feels his heart sink.

"shit, dav," merle grumbles as he rolls up into a sitting position. "couldn't've waited till mornin'? some of us tryin' to sleep."

"sorry, merle," davenport says, and he does look genuinely apologetic, but there's also a little smile on his face. he seems to relax a little with merle nearby.

"oh, forget about it," merle says. he lumbers to his feet and crosses the room, and pulls davenport into a deep, tight hug.

"what happened to you, sir?" angus asks then, looking up at magnus in another shockingly mature move as he draws attention away from merle and davenport's rather intimate moment.

"i tripped," magnus says. and actually — he should really change, but he doesn't want to leave lucretia alone. she's sitting up on top of her pile of blankets now, watching davenport and merle hug where everyone else has averted their gaze. she looks hurt, and lonely, and also very, very resigned.

but he also... he doesn't know what to do for her. he doesn't know how to help her. there's no point telling her that what she did was okay — it wasn't really. but she's not _fixing_ anything right now, staring at davenport and at taako and hating herself. she's not making them feel better. she's not making herself feel better. she's not making the _world_ feel better.

and— magnus probably can't say anything about that to change her mind.

"hey luce," he finds himself saying, and her gaze snaps away from davenport and merle and up to magnus, her eyes a little wide and her face going a little red knowing that he's caught her staring. he offers her a tiny smile. "help me wake up everyone else? they'll wanna see cap'nport too."

"of course," lucretia says, her voice barely above a whisper. then she blinks, and looks down to clear her throat. "of course," she says again, with a little more volume, and she quickly gets to her feet and hurries to magnus's side.

the hallway isn't very long, but as soon as they're out of the room, magnus glances back to make sure they aren't being followed and grabs her by the shoulders. she looks up at him, eyes wide, but he cuts her off before she can speak.

"listen," he says, and he keeps his voice low and prays that no one in the bedrooms is listening too hard. "i get it, okay? i know. i know how guilty you feel. i'm not... i'm not gonna tell you how you should feel. but like i said before, trying to hide from it won't make it go away."

lucretia's face closes off, clearly not having expected him to bring this up now, or like this. "i appreciate your concern, magnus—"

"okay," he says, cutting her off again. "good. that's all i wanted to say."

she stutters to a halt, frowning up at him. "okay?" she echoes. "nothing else?"

"i'm just asking you to try," magnus says. "that's— that's really all. i'm gonna be here with you the whole time. i would never ask you to do anything on your own."

"i've gotten pretty good at it, you know," she says, and her voice is quieter now. "doing things on my own."

"i know," magnus says. "but that doesn't mean you should have to."

lucretia goes silent again, and she looks down at the ground. magnus can't see her expression, but he gives her shoulders a little squeeze before he lets go. she takes a deep breath, and when she lets it out, she looks up at him again and says, "you didn't need help waking anyone up, did you?"

he offers her a smile. "not really," he says.

she shakes her head, and her hands twitch — for a second, magnus thinks she might reach out to take his hand, but she's never been... particularly touchy, and he's not surprised that hasn't changed now. "you never used to be so good at this part," lucretia says. "the emotional part. when did that change?"

magnus needs her to know — he needs her to _understand._ "probably about the same time i ended up in raven's roost to start with," he says.

that sits in the air between them, and lucretia looks like she wants to say something else, like she wants to pick that apart a little more, but magnus doesn't give her the chance. he pats her on the shoulder and starts to turn away, and she mirrors him maybe without even thinking about it.

* * *

taako and kravitz aren't asleep, of course, but taako isn't meditating and kravitz isn't— well, actually, magnus doesn't know if kravitz sleeps. he eats, and breathes, but the rest of it? magnus has no idea.

he doesn't bother to think it through much more than that right now. when he pokes his head into the room, they're lying on their sides, taako holding onto kravitz like his undead boyfriend is an overgrown teddy bear and kravitz reaching back over his shoulder to comb fingers through taako's hair. it makes magnus feel horribly and uncomfortably unwelcome — and it also makes him feel horribly lonely.

but there's not much to be done about that. taako is speaking to kravitz quietly, in a voice magnus can't quite catch, but he looks up sharply when the door opens. "who's dying?" he asks.

"no one," magnus says. "davenport's here."

taako sits up abruptly, jolting, and kravitz rolls onto his back, eyes on taako like magnus isn't even there. "what?" taako says, his voice empty and dull.

"davenport's here," magnus says again. "showed up like... literally ten minutes ago. come say hi, you weren't sleeping anyway."

taako _hmphs,_ but he gets up anyways, reaching for a dressing gown he's let fall to the floor next to the bed and pushing his way around magnus. kravitz follows close behind him, giving magnus a sympathetic little shrug as he goes.

lup isn't asleep, either, but barry is. it's— it's a _picture._ they're curled up under the sheets, magnus's sheets, with barry's head on lup's shoulder and her fingers drawing slowly through his wavy hair. she's staring into space, her face and eyes distant. she and taako have both always glamoured up before going out, though taako's routine has gotten a little more involved since wonderland, but it's rare to see lup bare faced and pensive like this.

lup and barry look perfect. they look like two people who can't bear to be apart from each other for more than an hour, like two people who are in love, who are so wholly comfortable with each other emotionally and physically and in every other way — and it hurts to watch. it hurts like it hurt to see taako, and it hurts in a dozen other ways that magnus can only begin to name.

it hurts because taako and lup only had each other for so long, and there will always be something special and unique and so very, very important about either of them letting someone in the way they let each other in. it hurts because they all watched barry dance around his feelings for a handful of decades, and seeing him like this, in lup's arms, comfortable and safe, is a reminder that everything he bottled up for so long was worth it, in the end. it hurts because magnus knows how long the two of them were apart, and he knows how horribly that tears at a person, he knows how much they _missed_ each other, how long barry searched and how scared he was, and he knows they finally found each other again, but it hurts to remember barry looking taako in the eyes and knowing that he had nothing to tell him, when they met again.

it hurts, on top of all that, because magnus's bed hasn't had more than one occupant for a very long time now — and he thinks, just for a second, that barry and lup deserve that bliss he used to feel a lot more than he does, or did, or ever will.

lup's eyes refocus and she looks over at him, tilting her head in an inquisitive gesture so as to avoid waking barry. then she takes in magnus's appearance, the pajamas and the mud and the mess, and she snorts and gives up on not waking barry. "what the hell happened to you?"

“had some trouble with the ground,” magnus says. “davenport’s here.”

“oh shit,” lup says, and shoves barry off of her. she’s up on her feet before he’s even fully awake, and then sprinting out of the room without bothering to throw on pants.

barry groans and rolls into the spot lup was just in. “can i just say hi in the morning?” he mumbles into the pillow, muffled and nearly inaudible.

“nothing stopping you except that i’m about to get naked, bud,” magnus says sympathetically.

barry groans and pushes himself up into a seated position, and then finally finds the strength somehow to lurch up and out of the room after lup. magnus can hear the shouting coming from the den now, but he spends a few minutes wriggling out of his disgusting clothes and pulling on something clean and dry.

afterwards, he slinks back down the hallway and hangs in the doorway outside the den. he can hear taako and lup berating davenport for not staying in touch, which— well, it's not the first time that taako's gone back on a previous stance without much warning, but it still makes magnus huff a little with frustration where no one can hear him.

"i'm just glad you're all right," lucretia says, and it's soft, and gentle, and magnus wants so bad to run into the room and gather her into his arms and tell her that it's not her fucking fault.

"gotta say i agree with that," lup says. "wouldn't hurt you to call every now and then, my man."

davenport makes a quiet, uncertain kind of noise. "i'm sorry for worrying you all," he says. "i wasn't... i wasn't trying to fall out of touch, i just... it's hard not to lose track of time." there's a pause, and then he adds, quickly, "on the sea, i mean. it's— you know."

they don't, not really, but no one calls him on the slip. "okay," taako says, "well now you're here, you're not allowed to leave till after candlenights, okay? or else magnus might have a legit conniption."

"i think i can make that work," davenport says with a soft chuckle. "is he...?"

magnus sucks in a breath, and every part of his body is screaming at him now to either step into the room and disrupt the conversation, or else run away so he doesn't have to hear it. he thinks someone else, a different kind of person, might want to hear this, might want to hear what they have to say, but all he can think now is that if they _know,_ if they've got him all figured out, then he wants no fucking part of it.

but his feet are glued to the floor, and he can't move. where would he go, even if he could? back to the bedroom? or would he force himself into the conversation so he can see the sudden and terrifying tension that falls over them?

it's taako who answers. "what about him?" he asks, nonchalant and easy as always.

"he—" davenport cuts off, and seems to thinks about his choice of words for a second. "what was he doing outside?"

"tch," taako says. "humans, who knows? bare, any idea?"

"going for a walk?" barry suggests. there's... there's something in his tone that magnus can't place. there's something he doesn't really _get,_ but— it reminds him, strangely, suddenly, of standing in captain bane's office, with taako and merle, and the three of them suddenly very aware that they had no choice but to play dumb.

"walk seems likely," taako says. "big weirdo. probably does that shit just for fun."

davenport is quiet for a moment, then says, "so there's nothing i need to know about?"

"oh, there's plenty," taako says. "have you read my book yet? if you say no, i'll never forgive you. you sit on a fucking boat all day and stare at the water, you've had plenty of time, old man."

"i'm really not—" davenport starts, and then cuts off with a sigh. "all right, fine, i'll trust you."

"you really should," taako says. "it's a good fucking book."

* * *

in the end, magnus does get some sleep. they all disperse after a few more minutes with a promise to catch up for real in the morning, and after magnus has spread out a new pile of blankets as a bed for davenport, he lays down and closes his eyes and listens to the house. he listens to his family, to their breath and their snores and their shifts and shuffles in their sleep. he listens to angus whisper indistinctly under his breath, and somewhere in there, he drifts off.

he doesn't dream this time. he wakes an hour or so later, not feeling rested in the slightest, but there is no thunderclap alarm in his mind, there is no desperate need to get up and check the locks, there is no nightmare immediately preceding it. he blinks into the darkness, and it takes him a moment to figure out where he is, but then he hears mookie making quiet little sleep noises, and he catches just the vaguest sight of the shadow of davenport's body a few feet away, and somehow, it's enough, for once, for him to just close his eyes again.

he drifts off again a few minutes later, and wakes after another hour or two, and so the night passes. he falls asleep and wakes an uncountable number of times, especially as the sunrise draws closer, but each time he feels... safe. for the first time in a very, very long time, magnus feels safe.

maybe an hour before sunrise, he wakes again and knows, for sure this time, he's not getting back to sleep again. but even there on the floor, he is so comfortable and content that he can't bring himself to get up. he lies there with his eyes closed and listens to his family around him until his eyes won't stay like that, and then he rolls onto his side and watches lucretia's sides rise and fall as she breathes.

slowly, light starts to creep into the house. a noise down the hall startles him a little, and he twists quickly just in time to catch the edge of taako's robe sweeping around the corner of the couch and in the direction of the kitchen.

magnus sits up then, and sneaks after him, careful to step around the mishmash of fingers and toes and limbs that has taken over his floor. by the time he's made it to the kitchen, taako has amassed a fairly impressive collection of bowls spread across the counter and is rapidly digging through magnus's fridge in search of something.

"whatcha looking for?" magnus asks, and taako jumps about three feet into the air.

"you!" taako hisses as he whips around and grips the edge of the counter for support. "i swear to fucking god, you big, massive idiot, i am going to _murder_ carey the next time i see her. fucking announce yourself when you walk into a room, _please,_ you're going to kill me."

magnus can't help laughing, and it's a strange feeling. not the laughter itself, so much as just... waking up and feeling like it's _okay_ to laugh. feeling like the urge to laugh isn't weighing him down and tugging at his muscles and his bones.

"yeah, it's hilarious," taako grouses, even as he turns around and resumes digging through magnus's fridge. "why are you awake? go back to sleep."

magnus isn't sure if that's a test, but he decides not to rise to the bait either way. "do you need help?" he asks.

"nope," taako says. "got it handled, my dude. go lay back down."

"where's kravitz?" magnus asks.

"got called in to work," taako says. "should be short, said he'd be back by lunch. now go lay back down."

"do you want me to wake lup up?" magnus asks. "to help, i mean."

"doubt she's sleeping, she can help if she decides she wants to," taako says, and then turns fully to face magnus again, the fridge door hanging open behind him. "are you gonna get to the point of whatever you want, or what?"

magnus frowns. "what do you mean?"

"look, dude," taako says. he crosses his arms over his chest in the classic taako defensive stance. "let's not like, make this a whole thing. we don't have to talk about shit. but you got a decent night's rest, i'm guessing? go fucking make the most of it and go back the fuck to sleep and let taako do his thing. i don't need your help with breakfast, i can handle it. done it a couple times before, you might remember. if you've got something you want to say, either say it or shove it and go back to bed. or all of the above, really, because i'm not really feeling the deep conversations about everything that's wrong with me right now."

magnus stares at taako, and taako stares back at him. he opens his mouth to speak again, and then closes it. taako keeps waiting, his face carefully blank.

magnus looks down at the floor while he thinks, licks his bottom lip. then, finally, he says, "i'm not tired."

silence.

"... okay," taako says. "so what do you want?"

"nothing," magnus says. "i just— you're not usually up this early, and kravitz wasn't with you, i just..."

"he doesn't go everywhere with me," taako says. he seems to have given up on avoiding conversation, or at least he's trying a new strategy, because he turns back around and closes the fridge, and then starts measuring ingredients with actual measuring instruments into various bowls, which is something magnus has only rarely seen him do.

"i'm my own person," taako goes on, with his back to magnus. "you remember what being in a relationship is like, you know you don't—" he cuts himself off and a little bit of tension tugs his shoulders back. "... i shouldn't have said that. sorry."

"it's okay," magnus says, softly. it doesn't— it didn't even really hurt. "you're right, anyway. i didn't mean it like that, but... yeah. just... he's stuck pretty close to you the whole time you two have been here."

"mm, guess so," taako says. his posture relaxes and he goes back to measuring, but he lets slip just a single, rough little laugh. "don't know whose benefit that's for, though, me or him."

magnus lets that hang in the air for a moment while he pulls a chair back from the table and sits down. he studies the grain of the wood in silence, thinking it over. finally, he looks up at taako's back and says, "hey, taako? are you okay?"

taako stills, and then his shoulders slump. "i don't wanna talk about it," he says.

magnus doesn't answer, ready to let it go at that, but then taako says, "i just— like. no. not really. i mean... overall? fine. today?" and he shrugs. "whatever."

magnus opens his mouth to speak, and then decides against it.

but taako, apparently, isn't done. "it's like... fuckin', some days are just..." magnus can see his jaw tense, and he shakes his head roughly and huffs a long, slow breath. "like, shit just isn't great, all of the time. you know? why am i even asking, you're not gonna answer that."

magnus winces, but— yeah. no.

"like," taako goes on. "the thing is that— fucking, i don't know. like, i know what you're doing. i know what everyone's doing, with the— with me. and her. and lup. like, lup's doing it too, the same shit you're doing, except she's dealt with my bullshit for even longer than all of you, so she's like, infinitely more tired of it. which is fair, she's got her own bullshit that i very politely choose to not call her on, but whatever. but like, what sucks about this is that everyone else woke up one day and decided that it was just _okay,_ and i'm not a fucking idiot, i know that it's not all black and white, okay? but that doesn't change that it fucking _sucked,_ and no offense, but in a fucked up way it kind of worked out for you and merle, so like, i'm just gonna say that out of the three of us, it kinda feels like i got fucked over the most, like most of the time."

he turns then to the sink and starts washing fruit under the water, quickly and furiously. "and like," he continues, "sometimes it feels like krav is the only fucking adult in my life who is willing to like, let me be upset? i know none of you are trying to pretend that this shit didn't happen. like i get that we're not just gonna throw her in fucking prison or something, i don't want that. i'm not asking for that, but it'd be great if every fucking day and every fucking argument didn't end with oh good, taako's overreacting again, let's remind him that he needs to hurry up and get over the worst fucking years of his entire life so that this dumbass fucking mess of a family can fix itself."

he viciously tosses the fruit into a colander and shakes it over the sink, then turns again and dumps it all into a bowl. "and krav is literally the only person who doesn't fucking make me feel like that," he says. "except like, angus, i guess, who is literally a child, i don't care how mature he is, he's fucking twelve. so literally my boyfriend is the only person i know who doesn't treat me like i'm being a fucking baby about the fact that i thought my sister fucking died, and then i _forgot_ her, and then i had a whole bunch of other really awful fucking shit happen to me, and then just as i found her again, like, the world almost fucking ended.”

he heaves out a loud breath and snatches a wooden spoon off one of the spokes hanging on the wall and starts mixing. “and i knew this was gonna happen,” he says. “i know you well enough that like, you weren’t gonna _not_ invite her, and i know her well enough that like, she wasn’t gonna _not_ come. so yeah, i knew everyone was gonna act like this, but it kinda sucks to wake up and think, all right, gotta be literally the highest energy, fucking nicest version of taako i can be today, because the one fucking person i have in my corner isn’t gonna be here for at least half the day, so let me head everyone off and make them think i can be an adult by getting up before sunrise and making them all breakfast. like, literally buttering you all up.”

he lets out a long, deep breath, and turns away from his mixture to start toweling off the fruit. "but i don't wanna talk about it," he says.

magnus— magnus sits there, in his chair. he stares at taako's back and waits for him to say something else, but he doesn't. the tension in taako's spine has returned, pulling his shoulders back in a tight, uncomfortable line. magnus looks down at the table, because he can't look at it anymore. "hey," he says finally, because there's really only one appropriate response to any of that he can think of right now. "i'm sorry."

he looks up just in time to see taako glance back over his shoulder, and then look away again. "i did say i don't wanna talk about it," he says.

"i know," magnus says. "but i— i seriously didn't mean to make you feel like that. you're not— i mean, i know you're... struggling with it. everyone does. we all know it's... we know it's not black and white for you either, like... just..."

"if i have learned literally one thing in the last century," taako says, "it's that intention means literally fuck all to anyone about anything. it is _not_ the thought that counts."

"yeah," magnus says softly. "i know. i just... i don't want you to feel like... like you can't tell us that."

"i really can't," taako says. "i cannot tell you guys that you make me feel like shit about something you claim to be really understanding about."

"you told me," magnus points out.

"yeah, well." taako shrugs, and starts gently folding his dried off fruit into the mixture in his massive bowl. "it's early. you caught me at a weird time."

"you don't have to keep stuff like that to yourself, taako," magnus says. "we're all, like, people. we make mistakes. i think we all know that pretty well by now. you can just say it. i mean... none of us want you to be upset."

"oh, listen to him," taako says, barking a single laugh. "you don't have to keep stuff to yourself, he says. you are such a hypocrite. hey, remember that time you shoved two dudes in your pocket workshop and launched them into the sky and they died? and you didn't tell us until after barry came back? or hey, even better, remember like, the entire fucking week that i've been here? remember that, bud?"

magnus doesn't want to bristle at that, but he can't stop himself. "that's not the same thing," he says. "you can't— this is something we can _fix._ we can stop doing the things we're doing that make you upset."

"right," taako says. "because your shit can't be fixed."

"i don't know what you want me to say to that," magnus says, and he lets his voice go flat.

taako is quiet for a second, and then he shakes his head furiously and snatches a muffin pan out of one of the open cabinets above him. "i guess neither do i," he says, but he doesn't sound happy about it, or satisfied, or— gods, magnus doesn't know what he _does_ sound like.

they fall quiet then, awkward and heavy silence resting between them. it grows oppressive very quickly, though taako moves around the kitchen like he doesn't even notice. magnus, though— magnus feels like there is a weight on his chest, like he's being crushed. the only sounds in the room are taako's footsteps and the slide of metal on metal and wood on wood as he moves pans into the oven and pulls bowls down from the cabinets, and they're _angry_ noises. they're furious and stewing and storming, building and breaking in waves. taako is _pissed,_ and magnus knows it, and the room is too fucking quiet apart from that, and he can't even hear the quiet breathing of the others in the room next door.

he wants to get up and run, but that's cowardly. he can't leave taako alone, not now, not when he's feeling the way that he's feeling. that would be _wrong._ but the room is so heavy, so quiet, so oppressive and painful, and magnus feels like he can't breathe. the silence grows so loud that he can barely even hear taako's movements and clanging now, because there's just white noise in his ears and it sounds— fuck, it sounds like _nothing,_ somehow.

he opens his mouth and forces a short, shaky breath into his lungs. taako turns around and looks at him then, and the frown on his face deepens for a second and then drops away altogether, along with the spoon and the bowl in his hand, and suddenly he's in magnus's space, standing in front of him and grabbing him by the chin to pull their gazes together.

"magnus," taako says, which is— weird. taako calls almost no one by their name, properly, fully, with no endearments. it's also just— it's weird to _hear,_ magnus thinks. it's weird to have that silence broken by something purposeful and not angry.

"hey," taako says. "fucking breathe, dude."

magnus lets out that breath from before, and automatically, his lungs refill with air, but he has to force himself to let it out again. taako coaches him through it, which should be funny, magnus thinks. he knows how to breathe. he's not sure why taako is doing this, but— whatever. at least the silence is gone.

"there you go, bud," taako says finally, when magnus is breathing normally and properly again and he doesn't feel quite so dizzy or frozen. "how's that feel?"

magnus frowns. "huh?"

"don't worry about it," taako says. he hasn't released magnus's face yet, and magnus kind of doesn't want him to. he kind of wants to grab him and hug him and hold him as close as he can and just... remember that taako is alive and safe and within reach.

but neither of them make a move for that, and taako says, "that happen a lot, my man?"

"uh," magnus says. "what, exactly?"

taako stares at him for just one beat longer, and then finally he drops his hand to his side, releasing magnus. "trouble breathing?" taako says, but it sounds more like a euphemism than anything else.

"um," magnus says, and tries to wrack his brain for a memory of that. "i don't— i mean, it's not really... i just zoned out a little."

"zoned out," taako echoes. "dude, how repressed are you, exactly?"

magnus pauses before answering. "i don't know what you mean."

taako seems to wrestle with something in his brain for a second, that frown back on his face now. he tilts his head to the side and then huffs a little sigh and seems to give in. "you didn't zone out, magnus," he says, and again— that shouldn't be magnus's name. taako should be calling him _my dude_ or _my man_ or any other variation on that.

"that was a panic attack," taako says, and that jolts magnus out of his thoughts.

"what?" is taako losing it? _what?_

taako seems to be choosing his words very carefully, taking time between each sentence, which is cause enough for concern if the subject matter wasn't _also_ very confusing. "dude," taako says. "seriously. you didn't realize?"

"i wasn't panicking," magnus says. that would be— it would be _real_ fucking shitty of him to start panicking in the middle of a conversation with taako about taako's feelings and the shit that taako has going on. magnus did not have a panic attack over hurting taako. magnus didn't— well, maybe magnus did hurt taako a little, but he is not going to take that moment and put it on _him,_ it's not about him, and he knows that. he's well aware of that. he did not do that to taako. he is not _going_ to do that to taako.

"kinda looked like you were," taako says. "kinda sounded like you were, the way you were, um, not breathing properly. or at all, for a minute there."

"we were talking about you," magnus says.

"holy shit," taako says. "mags, my man, my dude, my bro. what the fuck? have you always been this good at hiding how fucked up you are?"

magnus tries not to shrink back in his chair over that, but it's hard not to. okay, yeah, maybe he is fucked up, but it's one thing for him to say it, to _think_ it, in his head. it's another thing for someone else to say it, for _taako_ to say it, out loud.

"sorry," taako says, though he doesn't sound particularly apologetic. "but like, man, this is real. it's happening to you. you can't keep ignoring it. like, partially because no one is gonna let you, but also because the longer you let this go the more it's gonna fuck with your life."

what life? magnus can't help thinking. the life where he sits in his house all day except to try to rebuild a broken town that will always feel empty without the people who made it home for him? the life where he lets his family drift away and only desperately reels them back in when it's almost too late? the life where he spends more time awake and thinking about sleep than he does actually asleep? the life where he lives with the consequences of what they did to this world and to so many others until he dies and even that isn't atonement enough? the life that is only worth anything if he gives it to someone else, and they are better for it?

"this isn't about me," he says finally, which isn't an answer to any of the things taako has said or any of the things magnus has thought. "we were talking about your shit."

"fuck, man," taako says. "that is— you are so missing the point. i can't even tell if it's on purpose anymore."

"what the fuck do you want me to say, taako?" magnus says then, and he's angry now, or again, or still — he doesn't know anymore. he feels like every conversation with everyone is just a cycle now, a desperate back and forth match between guilt and anger, and he doesn't know how to just settle on one.

"i don't know," taako says, "but how about, hey, i feel like fucking shit all the time and everyone can tell and it's not fucking okay anymore."

_everyone can t_ — magnus fucking reels at that, like it's a physical blow. no, they _can't._ they only know a fraction of it. they know that magnus can't sleep, they don't know how badly needs to keep them safe, they don't know his checklist of the house and its safety features, they don't know— _fuck,_ they don't know. they can't. there's too fucking much for them to know.

and it's not— it's not a fucking _thing._ magnus has not been plagued with guilt and fear and a horrible, lurking feeling for his entire life, the way that taako has, the way that davenport has, the way that barry sometimes seems like he has. magnus does not have the things hanging over him that lucretia and lup do, he doesn't have the sort of existential dread that merle has, being a dad, being older than them all. none of that is— magnus does not have it like they do, and he never has, and he probably never will. he would take it for them, if that would fix it, but he can't, and he will never understand that feeling, and the least he can do is try to protect them from it a _little._ just a _tiny_ bit.

"you don't have to talk to me about it," taako says. "but holy fuck, dude, you have so much more going on than i even realized, and it's kinda hard to miss in the first place, so like. tell carey or something, dude, _shit._ no one wants to watch you waste away like this."

"i'm not wasting away," magnus says, and his voice comes out a little high and thready, like he hasn't used it in a long time and his body is forgetting how it works.

"not yet," taako says. "but seriously, man, there is clearly some shit going on in your head and no one wants to see it eat you alive. i'm saying that in like, the most detached way possible because i'm me and it scares the fuck out of me to admit to anyone other than lup and krav that i like being around them, so i'm only gonna say this once, okay? i don't wanna wake up one day and find out you got yourself killed doing some stupid shit, and i'm _really_ gonna be upset if that stupid shit was born of something that someone could have talked you out of."

magnus stares at him — dumbly, he will admit, but he has no idea what the fuck taako is talking about in that last bit, and he doesn't know how to respond to that. he knows in a distant, logical sense what taako means, but he cannot apply that logic to himself. those things just don't— it doesn't _click._

"um," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. "okay?"

there's no way taako takes that as an acceptable answer, but he shakes his head and sighs and finally, finally turns away. "okay," he says back. "just take care of yourself, bud. and let someone else take care of you, too."

magnus doesn't tell him that that bit's unlikely, but he suspects that taako already knows.

* * *

there should be some sort of big event for the first day that their whole family has been together and the world hasn't been ending, but there isn't. it's two days away from the first night of candlenights, but magnus won't be heading out to get them a candlenights plant until tomorrow, so today stands as a placeholder.

it goes... fine. taako makes muffins and eggs and bacon for breakfast. everyone sits down at the table and eats together, and it's quiet and subdued, but there is a palpable sense of _comfort_ in the air. it's been so long since they were all together. it's been so long since they sat down at a table together and ate breakfast, ate any meal, since they sat down at a table together at _all,_ that it feels surreal. magnus is almost surprised every time he turns his head and sees angus or mavis or mookie.

but it's also— magnus is tired, today. he's no stranger to the sensation, for sure, but today is... today is rough. the argument with taako hangs over him, and he can't help the guilt that has slowly churned to life inside him since then. he feels bad. he feels bad for making taako feel secondary to the other people in their life, he feels bad for getting angry with him, he feels bad for whatever happened at the end there.

he also, just... taako's comment about _everyone knows_ is weighing on him. he can't ignore it. it sits in his stomach with the guilt and stirs up a feeling that he has no name for, but that makes him feel just... absolutely disgusting. and _tired._ he is so fucking tired today.

and it's made worse by the eyes on him. he knows now for sure that they're watching him. it's no longer paranoia, it's a justified discomfort, because it's _true._ angus and taako and merle and lucretia and carey he knew, but now it's _everyone._ lup and barry and davenport and killian and gods, merle's kids, and kravitz too even though he's not here right now — they're all watching him and they all know he's being pulled apart right now. they know that it's just threads that are keeping him together, and he doesn't want them to know. he doesn't want them to be looking for it.

there is a part of him that has accepted now that there is a little bit of denial inside him. he doesn't want to admit that something is wrong, but it's hard to keep that down when everyone else can see it, too. he can only handle so much confrontation before he admits that there is something fundamental inside of him that is not working right anymore. at least, he's pretty sure that it used to work right. he knows he used to sleep properly. he knows he used to dream of things that weren't death and fire and hunger and loneliness. but he's not sure anymore if the rest of it is a symptom of that or something new on its own.

it's mostly lup and merle who keep the energy up at breakfast that morning. everyone is tired from the interruption to their sleep, and taako and lucretia are as subdued around each other as they have been this entire time, and magnus... magnus can't find it in him to try to bring everyone back. not today. he just... he wants one day.

and that hits him suddenly, like a revelation, while he's picking at the last of his second helping of breakfast and everyone else has started to drift off into the den or outside to socialize and talk and reminisce and everything else that magnus invited them to do here. he realizes then, suddenly, like an open palm to the face, that he doesn't want to have to pull them back today. he doesn't want to have to protect everyone today. today, he just wants to be magnus.

which is a troubling concept, he thinks, as he and davenport do the dishes, side by side in silence. the quiet weighs on him a little less than it did that morning, but he has something to occupy his hands right now. and that— well, that's what defines him, isn't it? he doesn't know how to _be magnus_ anymore.

magnus burnsides is a man who protects people. he's a man who cannot stand by when someone else is in pain, when someone else is being pushed down or hurt. magnus burnsides is the one who befriended a lonely, curious little alien fish, and brought it onto the starblaster because he could not let it be destroyed by the force that came to invade its world. magnus burnsides is the man who carried a goldfish in his pocket for a year, until he could provide it with a safe tank in which to spend the rest of its days. magnus burnsides is a man who carries a weapon at all times, until he woke up one day and realized he didn't need to, and now... now what?

magnus is defined, at his core, by what he is doing with his hands. the physical action at hand is what makes magnus himself. he has bounced from one thing to the next since he joined the ipre — one physical, manual task after another, until he landed, stumbling, on the earth of faerun. and now, some of those tasks are starting to feel pointless.

what does it matter if he carves another useless duck? what does it matter if he builds one more house, one more chair, one more table? there are other carpenters. there are other mercenaries.

and maybe this is why he— why he can't seem to pull his family back together. because magnus burnsides is not built for emotional labor, he was built to attack a physical foe, or to build a fucking chair. he can build a house and put his family in it, but he can't take a hammer or a knife or a sword or an ax to the frayed bonds between them and _fix_ anything.

he and davenport finish the dishes, and magnus stows them away while davenport leans over the sink, standing on his step stool and clearing out the leftover debris from the drain. magnus is stacking plates in the cupboard when davenport says, "i should probably say thank you."

magnus looks back at him, startled from his thoughts. "huh?"

davenport isn't looking at him — his eyes are fixed on the sink, and the small pile of food that he's amassed in one corner of it. "there, ah... i think there's going to be a bit of a difficult time for me, coming up here," he says. "i've been away for some time. i've gotten used to being on my own, and... well, you know how things were before. i'm not quite used to being around people yet, and i don't know how long it'll take for that to not feel so... difficult. for me."

magnus still isn't sure where this is going, so he stays quiet and fidgets with the handle on a drawer.

davenport takes a slow, thoughtful breath, in and out through his nose, and his chest rises and falls with life in a way that magnus didn't expect to be so reassuring. he expects it with lup, and with barry, but davenport didn't _die._ he was just... gone.

"i think," davenport says, "that i needed this push. to come back to everyone. and i appreciate that you took the time to bring everyone together like this and give me that opportunity. i also... i appreciate that you and i have been standing in this room alone for something like twenty minutes, and you haven't pressed me to talk once."

that's not— what magnus was expecting. here he is, stewing in guilt and bitter self-contemplation, and davenport has been thinking the whole time about how grateful he is to just not have to have a conversation. "um," he says. "you're welcome?"

davenport smiles, and he gathers up what he can of the debris and climbs down from the sink to put it in the trash. "i don't think that's the particular conversation i'm trying to have," he says as he brushes his hands clean. "i wanted... well, i just wanted you to know that your efforts to help the family don't go unnoticed. and that it means something to me to know that you all keep pushing on even when i'm not... there."

the end of his conversation with taako is still hanging in his mind, and magnus can't help the alarm bells that sets off. "uh," he says. "cap'n, i— um. i'm not trying to push you to talk about, uh, anything, but that— you know we need you around, right? things aren't... right, without you there."

understanding dawns quickly in davenport's face, and he holds up his hands and shakes his head. "i don't mean it in that way," he says. "there's— well, that's a conversation for another time, but i'm mostly just talking about... there is a fear in me whenever i go long stretches without seeing you all, even when i take that isolation enthusiastically and willingly, that i fear something will happen, and i could have done something to prevent it and just... wasn't there. and i'm glad you're here, because i know as long as magnus is around, i don't need to worry about that so much."

that qualifier — the _so much_ — stings a little in a way that magnus is absolutely not going to admit or even acknowledge for more than a second, but he turns and leans against the counter and gives davenport a smile. "thanks, cap," he says, and he tries so, so hard to make it sound as sincere as he means it. "i'm... i'm trying. they're not all willing."

"well, no," davenport admits. "but they've always been that way, haven't they? well, i suppose you all have. i can't exclude you from that."

magnus chuckles. "yeah," he says softly. "that's fair."

"but you're doing a good job," davenport says. he steps up to the sink to wash his hands, but he shoots magnus one last warm, soft expression and adds, "the best you can. the best anyone could."

magnus isn't sure if that's true or even fair, but it still feels good. he feels a little guilty, letting himself take that praise, but god does it feel _good._ it feels nice to have put in this work and had someone acknowledge it, and not be upset, not caution him against hoping for too much, just... thank him. just tell him he's doing the right thing and he's working hard at it and they _see_ that. davenport sees that.

"thanks, cap," he says again, softer this time.

davenport smiles softly down at his hands under the water.

* * *

the rest of the day gets easier after that. magnus feels a little less tired, though he does stick close to carey's side. he feels a little guilty for using her as a crutch again, but she seems tired today too, and she doesn't seem to mind at all that magnus sticks a little tighter to her than some of the other days she's been here.

taako and lup do magic tricks for the kids — a little bit of sleight of hand, but more than that just shooting off fireworks and transmuting one stupid item into another. davenport joins in with a bit of illusion work, and barry knows a handful of conjuration spells that he can add, and before long they have a decent little show going on.

magnus doesn't have much to add to it, and he's seen them all play with magic enough times that it's lost some of its— well, its spark. he ends up sitting beneath the oak tree with carey and killian, on top of an old blanket this time because the ground is still a bit damp. the sky above is cloudy from one side to the other, weighed down with another snowy night, most likely.

"a snowy candlenights," carey says dreamily, her head resting on killian's shoulder. "wouldn't that be nice?"

"mmm," killian says. "you'd get cold."

"i'm always cold," carey says. "it'd give us an excuse to snuggle up by the fire, wrapped up in blankets—"

killian laughs suddenly. "you're gonna let magnus hear you all sappy like that?"

"i don't give a shit," carey says. "mag's my best friend. he had to be my best man, he knows the stupid shit i say about you. he'll live."

"i dunno," magnus says, unable to completely keep a smile off his face. "it was one thing at your wedding, but now?"

"please tell me the honeymoon phase wears off," killian says, shooting magnus a desperate look over carey's head. "it's getting embarrassing, we can't go back to work full time and have this keep being a problem."

"i..." magnus starts, and then trails off. i don't know, he thinks. we never had a honeymoon. we—

and his brain goes fuzzy a little, trying to piece together the memories of that time, but it was a long time ago now, he supposes. he leans his head back against the trunk of the tree.

there is quiet for a moment — light but still uncomfortable quiet.

"sorry," killian says then, softly.

magnus shrugs, and lets his eyes fall on taako coaching angus through a spell, something magnus doesn't quite recognize but seems familiar. he's very aware, right then, of the look that carey and killian are sharing just out of his line of sight, and why they're sharing it, but he can't bring himself to do anything about it. let them talk, he thinks. it's fine. he's fine.

"hey," carey says suddenly, sitting up a little. "are you getting a tree? or a bush, or some shit, i dunno. we should go get one."

"oh," magnus says, tearing his eyes away from taako and angus. "i was gonna go tomorrow. i mean, it's gotta be up for a while, so..."

"yeah, but it's not really candlenights till you've got a plant going," carey says.

"well, it's not really candlenights yet," magnus points out.

carey sighs and fixes magnus with her most exhausted, plaintive look. "i'm saying i wanna go get a candlenights plant with you right now, burnsides," she says. "go down into town with me and pick out a fucking plant to put in your house."

"mind if i tag along?" killian asks. she and carey have their fingers interlaced, and she raises their clasped hands to her mouth and kisses the back of carey's hand. "kinda like spending time with my wife."

"that's gonna disgust me in a couple months," carey says, but her voice is dripping with overly sappy, sickeningly sweet sugar and syrup.

"i won't be saying that stuff in a couple months," killian says, and they stare deep into each other's eyes before kissing. magnus can't quite resist a little retching noise.

they break apart, and carey rolls her eyes in his direction. "shut up and go with us to get you a fucking bush," she says. "or else me and my wife are gonna pick one out for you, and i know you don't want that."

magnus laughs, and it comes easier than it should. carey stands and offers him a hand, helping pull him to his feet. killian hops up as well, and the three of them toss a wave back at the house and its collected guests as they start down the slope to town.

"this is a good setup, mags," killian says, admiring the house over her shoulder as they head down. "gotta be honest, i can't picture you anywhere else."

magnus shrugs, a little embarrassed by the observation, but he can't say she's wrong. "i guess so," he says, glancing back as well. "things are pretty good here. people need me."

"that's good," killian says. "i mean, that you're keeping yourself busy. it’s a weird time."

magnus kicks at the ground a little and shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat. "yeah," he says, trying not to think about it too much. "i mean... there's a lot to do."

"mm," killian says, and she links her arm with carey's and tips her head back to look up at the sky. "didn't think this is where we'd end up when i ran into you doofuses in wave echo cave, but i guess there's worse places, huh?"

magnus nods, even though she's not looking at him and she won't see. "we've come a long way," he says softly.

carey sighs, loud and heavy, and they both turn to look at her. she has a kind of troubled expression on her face and she's staring at magnus. he suddenly has a feeling that he needs to get out of this conversation as fast as possible.

"babe?" killian prompts.

"doesn't it seem weird that everyone just kind of ended up back where they started?" carey says. "i mean, like. the director is still with the bureau, we're with the bureau, taako's famous again, merle just went back to his family, magnus is... here. in raven's roost."

"uh," killian says. "i don't know. didn't think of it that way. i mean, it's not like anyone just... stayed static, right? everyone's moving on."

carey's eyes dart away from magnus quickly, looking down to the ground and their feet as they walk. "are they?" she asks.

killian is quiet for a moment, and then says, "carey, babe, i'm not following."

carey seems to wrestle with herself for a second, and then she looks up, glances at magnus and then killian, and then fixes her gaze ahead of herself again. "i just—" she starts, then stops, frowning. magnus knows her well enough to know when she's struggling to find words, when language and sentence just isn't flowing the right way to get her to the thing she wants to say. she shakes her head hard and then finally she says, "everyone doesn't _have_ to go back. we could all do something else if we wanted."

"uh," killian says. "is this a conversation we should maybe have alone, babe?"

"no!" carey says quickly, and her head jolts to make eye contact with killian. magnus can't see her face, but he can see the way killian reacts to it — the way she frowns, and then her face smooths over and she drops her gaze to the dirt road the way carey did earlier. he doesn't like it.

"i'm just saying," carey says, still staring at killian, the back of her head to magnus, "just because something is familiar or you feel like you _should_ be there, doesn't mean you can't go somewhere else. or that you shouldn't."

killian doesn't respond, just shrugs and keeps her eyes down.

magnus isn't stupid — he knows this is about him. he doesn't know how, exactly — he doesn't know what carey is implying, what she wants him to say or do in response to that, but that's not really new with everything that's been flying around him the last few days. but he knows this is about him, and he knows carey is waiting for him to respond somehow.

"uh," he says, and stumbles over his tongue a little, because he still doesn't have a proper response to that planned out. "well, i... i think if you're needed somewhere, that's where you should be. or, i guess. if you need to be a certain place, then you should go there. if that makes sense. does that make sense?"

"mostly makes sense to me," killian says. "that why you picked raven's roost, mags?" she's still not looking at him, eyes downcast.

magnus shrugs. inexplicably, he misses railsplitter's weight across his back. he wishes he had something in his pockets to hold onto, but all that's there is his coin purse, which doesn't offer much purchase. "it seemed like the right thing to do," he says. "they— if anyone was gonna help them rebuild, it should be me."

"and why's that?" carey asks, turning suddenly then to look at him properly. he's unprepared for it, and their eyes lock and he can't look away. he stops walking, because the force of her gaze shocks him into stillness, and a second later she stops as well, and turns to face him fully. killian is still holding onto her arm, and she watches them both with wide eyes, her stance tense like she might have to throw herself between them in a moment — and to be honest, after the other night, magnus thinks, she might.

"i don't know what you're asking me," magnus says. "they needed help here. i could help. it was my home. why— of course it should be me."

"but that's not all," carey says, probing deeper. she takes a step into his space, and he brings his chin up, though it only gives him a little bit of an edge on her. "there's more," she says. "come on, mags."

"carey," killian says. "stop."

"you wanted to come back," carey says. "i mean, of course you did, but you didn't _have_ to."

"yes i did," magnus says, and he doesn't know where that came from, but it's true, isn't it? he had to come back. he couldn't leave them. the town could finally rebuild, the war behind them, but— but the war was so long ago, wasn't it? it wasn't the war that tore raven's roost down, it was—

his head spins a little, and he staggers back a step, putting a little distance between him and carey.

"gods, carey, cut it out," killian says, and she lets go of her wife and steps up to grab magnus by the shoulders and help steady him. "you good there, man?" she asks, ducking her head a little to look him in the eyes.

"yeah," he says, and he feels a little out of breath, although he can't place why. what is it about the war? what is it about the fall of raven's roost, the empty husk of the town he called home, the—

"oh, fuck," he says, and he has to squint his eyes shut against the way the world twists around him. killian's hands tighten on his shoulders, sliding down to grip him by the biceps.

"hey," she says. "brush it off, magnus. you're good, yeah?" her grip relaxes a little and he senses her turn more than he sees it, and she says, "carey, what the fuck?"

"i—" carey cuts herself off with a strangled little noise. "i didn't— i just—"

"yeah, okay, well, let's move on," killian says, and she turns back to magnus. "just breathe, man. it's cool. just breathe."

magnus does as she says, feeling his awareness pitch back to this morning, in the kitchen with taako, and gods he just wants to dissolve into the ground right now. he's so fucking tired of being exposed like this, he's so tired of having to walk this off in front of everyone, he's so tired of everyone _knowing._ he just wants to go sit on his couch and carve another duck and think of julia and— but he doesn't want to be alone, he wants everyone around him, taako tight on one side and carey tight on the other, and lup and killian and kravitz and barry and everyone else right behind. he wants his family there, but he wants them to stop fucking _worrying_ about him, and he wants to stop putting the shit that makes them worry on fucking display.

"deep breaths," killian is saying quietly, as his world stops spinning and comes back to normal. he breathes slowly, in and out and easy, until he can lift his head and not feel like he's about to puke.

"damn," killian says. "okay. you good now?"

"i think so," he says, and his voice is a little raspy, but he otherwise feels back to normal. carey, standing a pace or so behind killian, looks stricken, horrified. _fuck._

"hey," he says, and raises a hand towards her, but she just bites her bottom lip and takes a step back.

"carey," he tries again. "i'm fine. seriously, i— i'm okay. just a weird spell, yeah? it's all good."

"i didn't mean to do that," carey says, softly. "i just... i didn't know that would happen."

magnus tries to process that, and his brain just slides around it like oil. he doesn't know what that means, and he can't really do anything with it even if he tried. the words roll off of him like so much nothing, but he's too focused on carey to work through it anyway. he shrugs killian's hands off of him and steps towards carey, reaching out for her. "hey," he says again. "i'm _fine._ "

she's not crying, because carey fangbattle doesn't let anyone see her cry, except of course the two people standing in front of her right now. but she looks pretty damn close, even as she pulls her shoulders back and stands straight and looks magnus in the eyes. "i know you're fine," she says. "just— scared me, that's all."

"don't be scared," magnus says, and he grabs her and pulls her in tight to hug her. the feeling of her against him is familiar and safe, and he rubs circles in between her shoulder blades until she lifts her arms to hug him back.

"how can i not be scared?" she mumbles, but she doesn't let go of him. "i just want you to be okay."

"i am okay," he promises. "i wish you'd all stop worrying so much."

"fat chance, bud," killian says gently, and he takes that as his cue to step back from carey.

"okay," he says. "well... how about that plant?"

carey's still not crying, but she doesn't look any further from it than she did before he hugged her, either. "okay," she says quietly. "let's go get that plant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! as always i love to hear your thoughts in the comments or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia). 
> 
> the next chapter is an interlude, so it will be a bit shorter, but it'll still be up next monday. have a good week!!


	5. interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cws for this week: all standing warnings, some allusions to self harm, suicide, and child abuse.
> 
> shorter chapter!! this is really just an interlude with some outside perspective on magnus's uh, stuff. enjoy!!

angus mcdonald is the world's greatest detective. he is the smartest person of his age, the youngest person in the world to be invited to attend taako's amazing school of magic _or_ lucas miller's institute of magical research, let alone both. he is a quick thinker, an astute observer, and a master of deduction. his young age allows for a certain amount of deception that is rarely expected of him, and he is underestimated more frequently than he could even begin to track.

the biggest thing that angus's age allows is a position for observation that is particularly unavailable to his adult counterparts — specifically because half the time, people simply assume he doesn't know what's going on. this particular advantage has been lost somewhat during his time with the bureau and at the miller institute, mostly because the adults around him have gotten to know him and know to expect listening ears, but there are a number of things he is still able to pick up on despite the changes to their behavior as they've come to understand his deductive process.

here are some of the things that angus mcdonald knows: he knows what it means when taako and kravitz dismiss themselves early for the night during angus's trips home from school. he knows why taako doesn't put his glamour on first thing in the morning when angus is over, and why that rule is superseded by lecture days, on which he will don it before he even leaves his bedroom. angus knows that there is more than one reason that merle jumped so quickly to be at magnus's side for the holiday, specifically why he brought his children along with him to a family gathering where they would know almost no one.

angus also knows that much of ms. lup's energy is a facade, and that when she's alone with mr. barry a good deal of that falls away. he knows that she keeps that facade up even around taako, because she can't let him see it fall, and he also knows _why_ she won't allow that.

a lot of this angus has learned over time. his prolonged exposure to the members of the former ipre and the former bureau of balance has helped him to recognize changes in their behavior — so much of deduction is spotting variance from the norm and inferring the reasoning behind that variance and the subject's successive actions. even just the two years he's spent with this new family of his (and it still fills him with an embarrassingly childlike glee when he thinks that word) is a significant portion of his life, and he knows them very well now.

but angus has never had the opportunity to observe them in their most natural territory, in the space to which they have become most accustomed: each other's company. it makes sense that one hundred years together on a ship facing constant danger and almost certain death would lead to a camaraderie and a sense of security unparalleled by any other set of people, but what this provides for angus in particular is a baseline. angus knows these people very well, but he has never seen them at _home,_ and when taako asked him if he wanted to spend m candlenights at magnus's, angus _jumped_ at the chance.

he will admit — it's not entirely a work opportunity. and it's... well, it's not completely fair to say that he only wants to get to know that baseline so he can better understand them. they are, for lack of any better term, angus's only family. knowing them and understanding them is the most intimate thing angus can imagine.

but he has learned a lot, in the week or so since he and taako and kravitz arrived at magnus's house in raven's roost. he's learned a lot about taako, for example. he's learned that taako isn't just unsure about his place with the director — he's unsure about his place with _any_ of them. he's learned that the most effective way for taako to deal with anything going on around him is to remove himself from the situation, and he's learned that taako has developed this strategy only so that he won't blow up on the people he considers his family.

and angus has learned that kravitz is more than just a romantic partner for taako at this point — he's an emotional support crutch and a bit of a therapist at some times. he's also learned a lot about kravitz, about how fiercely he cares for taako and how badly he wants to help him and support him, and how much it scares him how vulnerable and human he has to make himself in order to do that.

he’s also learned that the only thing that begins to rival taako in level of important to kravitz is his job, and he’s learned that the trials of that job weigh on him near constantly. angus can see it in the distant look on kravitz’s face when he’s not distracted by taako, in the way he often slips off to commune with his god and speak to her in nearly inaudible whispers about the movements of the dead and their masters across the world. he can see it in the heavy set of his shoulders when he comes back from that one job that’s pulled him away from the holiday, and the way that he immediately reaches for taako when he steps into the house again, not just to provide support but to ask for it as well.

angus has learned a lot about all of them, but it's hard to set foot inside someone's home and not learn a great deal about that person in particular. magnus wears his heart on his sleeve. angus has known this for some time — but that's not a particularly astute deduction, it's just a fact that anyone who has spent any amount of time with magnus burnsides would know. magnus is the strongest person angus has ever met, and not just physically. this is a man who will bear the brunt of any blow, emotional or physical or spiritual, if it means protecting his friends.

and that leads into one thing angus has learned that he is not supposed to know. he was aware that something happened in wonderland, something that changed magnus — and it wasn't the physical shift when he came back. taako is an excellent liar, but merle is _horrible,_ and it didn't take much for angus to figure out that magnus had survived whatever physical attacks had happened on their mission, but taako and merle were much more adept at hiding the mental changes which magnus had endured.

it wasn't obvious at first, mostly because there were so many other behavioral changes in the wake of the story and song that angus couldn't possibly begin to parse which were a result of returning memories and which were a result of... other factors. but one thing angus has also learned about deduction and baselines is that one person's changes can tell him a great deal about another's.

magnus's move back to raven's roost hadn't been a surprise to anyone, but taako and merle had seemed particularly agitated about it at first. angus had initially put it down to discomfort over being separated again after so much time, but that didn't fit particularly well with merle's baseline of behavior, and even if it did fit with taako's, there was something _off_ about it that angus couldn't place right away. it wasn't until much later that he recognized it as _concern,_ worry even, almost blatant and outright fear, and for magnus's sake, not for his own.

which was strange, and not because taako doesn't care about his family or worry for them, but because it didn't fit what angus knew of magnus's hometown. all of them were rather tight-lipped about their time before the bureau, but while taako's personal history was at that point common knowledge for the general populace, magnus's was a bit harder to uncover.

but he did eventually pin down a few words: revolution. raven's roost, of course. calen. carpenter. _hero._

angus didn't dare test his theories, for fear of setting off alarms in the other adults, but it wasn't hard to reach a safe level of assurance that he was right — magnus didn't remember the revolution. magnus didn't remember the man who ruined his life on this plane. and everyone else did.

more specifically, taako and merle did, and with a few other facts in place, angus did eventually come to a rather incomplete but overall inclusive understanding of the facts. among the many other things taken from them in wonderland was the memory of magnus's search for revenge — something which was passed on to taako and merle instead. they didn't talk about it, to anyone, but angus deduced eventually that the director must have known of the change as well. she'd watched the three of them for so long, she couldn't possibly not notice the missing information from magnus's memory.

but calen and the revolution aren't the only things that angus has learned — in fact, they may not even be the most pertinent or pressing. in the many months he spent at the bureau with the three of them, angus came to know them very well. he knows what magnus is like at his best, both in personality and in physical strength. he's seen magnus early in the morning and late at night, at midday and just after waking up and just before going to bed, at mealtimes and break times and bedtime. but angus has never seen magnus act the way he's been acting lately.

and angus can think of very little in the post-hunger world that scares him like that does.

magnus is a pillar. magnus is a stone tower— no, a lighthouse. magnus is a beacon, a guardian, a light signalling safety and harbor. magnus is the man who won a revolution, who helped save the universe and all known existence. magnus is the man who built sandwiches the size of angus's head in the cafeteria on the moon base, and the man who picked him up and wiped off his knees once, when angus was rushing across campus with his arms full of papers, very late for a meeting with the director.

magnus is the man who stacked his papers high in his arms again and ruffled his hair and said, "careful, ango. you can rush wherever you're going but that doesn't mean you're gonna get there faster."

angus looked that man in the eye with a deep frown and said, "please don't be a hypocrite, sir," and magnus was the man who full body laughed at something that _angus_ said, and it made angus feel warm in a way that no one laughing at him ever had.

of the three of them, angus considers himself closest to taako, but it's hard not to be magnetically drawn to magnus. he's the kind of person who _cares,_ who will step in and take any blow for any person he deems worthy (and his standards may not match those of his closest friends), and angus has a hard time _not_ looking up to him.

but where magnus once stood tall and bright and alive all the time, angus can now see how his shoulders sag with every step he takes and how his body is heavy and weighted. angus can see how it hurts him every time his family argues, how it tugs at his tight jawline and his slouching spine. and yet despite that, magnus holds himself at attention, his eyes darting around the room constantly, gauging every reaction and every movement from everything in the room — animate or inanimate.

angus also sees, when everyone thinks he's asleep, how magnus prowls around the house late at night. angus sees how magnus checks and rechecks the locks, the windows, the doors, and the floors and every nook and cranny and crevice. angus sees how magnus's eyes linger on each member of the family as they enter or leave the room, how he counts them all. he doesn't see the look in magnus's eyes when he pulls the blankets up over angus's shoulders, but he does feel the way that magnus's hand lingers on him, and it's not in the same way that it used to, when angus would fall asleep on the couch in the trio's living room and magnus would tuck him in back then.

there is something in magnus's actions now that is not just protective, but fearful. he is not just watchful but alarmed, not just careful but hyper-focused. it is a change that angus thinks was probably subtle at first, so slow that magnus hasn't quite recognized it himself — but his family can’t help but notice.

and that’s the other thing that angus has learned — magnus cannot and will not accept his family's help. part of this, angus thinks, is that magnus has not yet recognized that these things that are affecting him are real, and they're not going to go away. another part of it, which angus doesn't think the rest of the family has realized yet, is that magnus will always place other people's needs before his own. even if he did recognize the gravity of his own situation, angus doesn't think magnus could find it in him to care more about that than taako and the director, or the missing captain, or even merle's relationship with his children.

and to be fair, it was his job for a very long time. protecting them was his exact job description onboard the starblaster, and angus isn't surprised that magnus took this very seriously, nor that it has carried over into their lives after the starblaster and after the hunger. in fact, none of this particularly _surprises_ angus so much as it— well. it scares him.

it scares angus, to see magnus look so tired. it scares him to see this man who could and would protect anyone from anything reduced to a handful of minutes of sleep and a large collection of wooden knick knacks. it scares angus to see a man with such a large personality live in a house so _devoid_ of it. sure, he has a good few dozen wooden sculptures scattered around, but there are no notes of _magnus_ in this space. there is none of his larger than life, big and bold and warm personality in the decor or the care of the house.

it makes angus feel very small, and very much twelve years old. his peers at the institute have stopped babying him quite so much, but he thinks that at home, with his family, he will always feel like a small boy, even when he's grown and adult one day. and magnus — angus can't imagine a world where magnus doesn't make him feel every inch of that small, ignorant boy that angus was when he stepped onboard the train in rockport.

it is nice, he admits, to come home and not have to pretend that he's an adult. angus has spent a very long time trying to convince people to take him seriously, and that's another thing he's learned — just because someone treats you with care doesn't mean they don't take you seriously. at home, with taako and kravitz and ms. lup and mr. barry and with magnus and with the rest of the family, angus doesn't need to pretend to be an adult, but the family will still look at him and treat him with respect and individuality, and they will give him space and comfort in turn as he needs it.

but they also put their foot down sometimes. like right now, for example, taako says, "this is a grown up conversation, ango. go read a candy cleveboy book."

"it's caleb cleveland, sir," angus says with a sigh. "i would like to be part of the conversation, if it's all right with you."

"it's not," taako says. "go chill for a while, 'kay?"

"i think i could provide some valuable insight—" angus says, but the door to the kitchen has already swung shut.

which is just— fantastic. but it's fine. taako thinks he knows how angus operates, but he often falls into the same trap as every other adult that angus knows. sure, there's a muffle spell laid over the doorway, but angus is a quick learner and a hard worker and has spent the last year at a highly specialized school for magical study — it only takes a small flourish of his wand to de-soundproof a portion of the wall next to the door. he almost rolls his eyes with how simple it is; he loves taako, but it's almost like bait, _asking_ him to listen.

"what are you doing?" mavis asks from the couch. she has one of angus's books open in her lap while mookie snoozes next to her, knocked out from the long day outside of flashy magical showing off.

"listening," angus says, and presses his ear to the wall.

"you're going to get in trouble," mavis says. there's a caution in her voice, but she also sounds resigned, like she knows that angus isn't going to listen. probably a feature of having been raised, at least in part, by merle highchurch, angus thinks. but then again, angus has also been partially raised by merle, and the two of them have turned out very different. so maybe it's more a feature of having been raised in part by a woman who was once married to merle highchurch.

"not if i don't get caught," angus says. it's hard to hear clearly without proper focus, but he doesn't want to be _rude_ either — that's not how he was raised, before the bureau.

mavis huffs. "you sound like merle," she says, which is how she talks about her father when he can't hear. he isn't, after all, _technically_ her father, but she's mature enough to realize that she needs to make peace with him for mookie's sake. angus doesn't quite understand that, because by his count he has one biological father, one grandfather, and at least six stand-ins for the absence of the former two, but he also doesn't quite understand mavis's exact situation, so it's maybe not his place to judge.

he chooses not to respond to that, though, instead casting another small spell and squeezing his eyes shut tight to listen more carefully. he can hear taako, distantly, the most distinctive voice of all the adults, say, "all right, we've got maybe forty-five minutes before he gets back, so let's get this over with."

"there's no need to be so on edge, taako," davenport says. "this isn't an intervention. we're just worried."

"everyone's worried about everyone," taako says. "i don't see how us meddling fixes anything. in fact, far as i've seen? everything any of us has tried has only made it worse."

"i do have to say," lup says, "the fact that we have to sit down round table style and talk about him when he's gone kinda feels like maybe this isn't the way to handle this."

"i think," says the director, very quietly and uncertain, obviously not overjoyed about jumping into the conversation right now, "that if we let this go on any longer, we may not have an opportunity to help."

someone sucks in a quick, deep breath, and on the other side of the wall, angus holds his breath.

"he's not stupid," lup says, after a pause. "he's not— it's _magnus._ he wouldn't do something like that."

"not on purpose," the director says, even quieter. the whiplash of her mood still confuses angus sometimes, even though he understands perfectly well the cause for it. she is such a _figure_ at the bureau, such a tall, powerful, well-spoken figure, and it doesn't sit right for her to have become so meek and fearful in front of her family.

"the town seems safe enough," kravitz says. "i doubt he's going to go running headfirst into battle in such a... sleepy town."

"i still gotta say i don't think it's good for him to be here," merle says. "too many reminders. we don't know all what the wheel did to his head."

"i don't like it either," taako says, "but seriously? it's not our fucking place. i want it like fully well known right now, i'm not okay with this, this isn't cool with me, and i don't like that we're doing this. i tried to help him already, and it fucking backfired in a big way, and i don't wanna— i'm not letting us fucking decide for him how his life is supposed to be. dude just needs to adjust, just like the rest of us."

"yeah, because we're all doing so well with that," merle comes back in a drawl, but dry and sharp in a way that angus isn't used to hearing from him.

"hey, old man?" taako says. "fuck y—"

"okay, okay," lup cuts in, and angus can picture her grabbing taako by the arm and physically pulling him out of the verbal confrontation. "let's just— everyone chill, 'kay? we don't have to step in and change his whole fucking life, taako's right. and like, the behind the scenes chat about how fucked up he is doesn't feel great, but taako, babe, it's probably not a great look if we just let him keep dealing with it on his own and do nothing to help."

taako says nothing.

"have we tried _talking_ to him about it?" barry suggests. "like... not pushing, just..."

"oh boy, barold," taako says then, immediately dropping his swear of silence. "wow, why haven't we thought of that? hey mags, how come you never sleep anymore and you've got nightmares every other night? oh shit, please don't punch my lights out."

"he's not _violent,_ " the director counters, one of those few instances where she will actually speak directly to taako.

"sure about that?" taako says. "pretty sure at all times he's half a second from either punching me in the face or hugging me so tight i break in half and die."

"taako, stop," lup says. "we're trying to help."

"i _fucking tried that,_ " taako says, his voice getting nasty and snarly in a way that he rarely lets it get when he's talking to anyone other than lup or kravitz — because he knows they can take it, angus knows. "i _tried_ to help, and not only did it not fucking work, it made it _worse._ there may have been a chance that he would bring it up before, but not fucking now. and after that whole fiasco with merle trying to help his fucking nightmare the other night? probably even worse."

"so then what do we _do?_ " barry asks. "the answer can’t be just to fucking ignore it and pretend everything is normal. we know it's not."

"i think i've made it pretty fucking obvious i'm not mental health expert," taako says, "but like, maybe it's not our fucking business."

"i'm sorry, taako," davenport says. "but we can't ignore it. he's hurting. at the very least, he needs to understand that we're here for him, even if we... even if we can't quite give him all the support he might need."

"that's great," taako says. "i don't know how to communicate that to him in literally any meaningful way that we haven't already, but it’s great. look, i'm not saying ignore it, but fucking shoving our way into his issues isn't gonna fix them."

"but they aren't going to just go away!" the director interjects. "just the simple fact of our presence isn't going to help him! we _have_ to do something, he's— he's not okay. davenport is right, he's hurting, and he's trying so hard to hide it, and— i can't watch it anymore. he's trying so hard to help the rest of us and we're doing nothing to help him."

"so tell me what your big grand solution is then, director," taako says, and his voice goes smooth and icy and— angus doesn't like that. taako very rarely speaks like that, but angus _hates_ it. it makes his skin crawl and it reminds him of home, of neverwinter, of his parent's house. he hasn't been back there in a long time, but sometimes, when taako sounds like that, when he tries to put on that air that he doesn't _care,_ and yet his voice still drips with such anger and fury — sometimes it feels like angus is standing in the foyer of his parent's mansion again.

he takes a step back from the door, shaking a little bit, and drops his focus on the spells. silence descends over the wall between the den and the kitchen again, and he turns away. mavis is absorbed in her book, and mookie is snoring quietly.

the problem, angus thinks, is that none of them are approaching this issue from the right angle. none of them really understand how magnus thinks. angus isn't going to pretend he's an expert, but he has watched magnus for a long time now, and he does understand that there is little that motivates magnus burnsides more than a very powerful need to help his friends, and on a personal level, angus understands that having other people focus on _your_ problems can be... troubling.

it's why angus avoids bringing up his parents around his new family. it's why he generally only tells them stories of his grandfather — not because he wants to pretend that the situation with his parents doesn't exist so much as that he isn't fully prepared for that level of scrutiny into his feelings and his psyche and his probable trauma. it's hard, to have other people look at you like that, which is why angus generally keeps his observations of other people's behavior to himself.

but this is— it's not quite the same thing, is it? angus is young, and he's learning, very slowly, to take care of himself, and he's had some time away from the situation. he's resilient — not that magnus _isn't,_ but he's had more time to become ingrained into his situation and his psyche.

maybe, in a way, this is angus doing exactly what magnus is doing. maybe this is angus downplaying his own situation in the face of something that seems much worse and that is happening to someone else. but, angus thinks, if taako asked him why he doesn't go home, why taako and kravitz have become his surrogate parents, why angus never writes to his family, why he only ever speaks of his grandparents — would angus answer him? would he tell him the truth?

he's not sure. but he has to think that he wouldn't have a panic attack just at the thought of it. he has to think that it wouldn't prevent him from sleeping now that he's been removed from the situation.

angus sits down on the floor and rifles through his things for a little, but he's not sure what he's looking for. he feels... useless, suddenly. it's not like his new family to exclude him from things like this, but he supposes they're trying to keep it within the _family,_ within the crew itself. taako won't be separated from kravitz these days, so that's a very particular exception which angus can understand, but—

he heaves a sigh of frustration and closes his bag. mavis looks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

"if you really want to be a part of the conversation so bad," she says, "then just go in there."

"it's not that simple," angus says glumly. "they won't listen. adults are..."

"stupid," mavis finishes his sentence. "they're not very smart sometimes, i know. sometimes you just have to ignore them and tell them what they don't want to hear."

angus turns that over in his mind for a little, frowning at the coffee table. she— well, she may be right. he loves his family, but they can be rather stubborn sometimes. angus isn't going to say that he knows the exact way to help magnus, but he does think he has an idea for how to _try_ to help, at least a little, and they'll never know what that idea is if he doesn't _tell_ them.

"or don't," mavis says with a shrug, and turns a page of angus's book. "but don't sit around moping that they didn't listen to you when you didn't try to make them."

angus frowns at her. "do you regularly barge into your father's private conversations?" he asks.

"when they're about the rest of _my_ family?" mavis asks, without looking up. "absolutely. why does he get to make all the decisions? it's my family, too."

angus glances toward the kitchen door, and then the front door, and then— he stands up. he half expects mavis to look up and give him a knowing little grin, but she doesn't take her eyes off the page. but, he thinks, that's to be expected — book twelve is _very_ good.

for all taako's magical prowess, he hasn't bothered to lock the door, probably because he hasn't conceived of a universe where angus tries to eavesdrop _and_ tries to sneak in, but it doesn't really count as sneaking when he's just opening the door and walking right in. there's a bit of a disconcerting moment as he steps through taako's muffle spell and all is silent — and then he comes out on the other side and is immediately and loudly assaulted by the shouting that fills the room.

taako is on his feet, hands planted on the table, and kravitz is standing behind him just looking kind of sad and resigned. merle is standing, too, though he poses a much less intimidating figure across the table from him, only just barely coming over its top, and davenport and the director have both sunk back in their chairs, looking like they've accepted that they have no real say in this discussion. lup is waving her hands frantically and barry is in the middle of trying to talk over everyone else.

"why is it always fucking taako against the world with you people?" taako demands, and merle huffs loudly.

"it's _not,_ " he responds. "you just decided it was, and everyone's reacting to _you_ deciding that no one's allowed to have a different opinion."

"that is so fucking unfair, old man," taako laughs, "but fucking whatever—"

and then angus walks in, and after a moment more of fevered shouting, everyone falls silent as they turn to look at him.

the corners of taako's mouth twitch in irritation, and he frowns intensely in angus's direction. "seriously not a great time, ango," he says. "go read."

"with all due respect, sir," angus says, as he climbs up into one of the vacant chairs to the director's left, "i think i can help."

"i don't think this is a great conversation for you, kid," merle says. "listen to taako."

angus purses his lips and gives them all a second to believe that he's going to listen, and then shakes his head and says, "in all fairness, sirs, taako isn't actually my dad."

kravitz— kravitz laughs. it's quiet, and gentle, and it makes angus feel a little bit better about having said that. taako's jaw is tight and his teeth are seconds away from grinding harshly against each other, but he says nothing, even as kravitz reaches out and lays a hand on one of his shoulders. with gentle pressure, he guides taako back into his chair, and once he's not standing, merle and the others relax a little as well, though merle doesn't seat himself again just yet.

"i think we should listen to what angus has to say," kravitz says.

lup eyes angus, and angus meets her gaze bravely. ms. lup is perhaps one of the most intimidating figures in his life, but angus has immense respect for her, if for no other reason than because her presence is a massive comfort to taako, and it has become extremely important to angus that taako feel happy and content — though there are a number of other reasons he has come to respect her as well.

"i don't know, krav," lup says, quietly, and she looks away from angus. "no offense, but... it's kind of a..."

"a family thing, i understand," kravitz says. he hasn't taken his hand off taako's shoulder. "and i understand that my presence is already pushing the limits of that, but i think we all know how observant and intelligent angus has proven himself to be."

"this isn't the kind of shit he should have to listen to," taako says, quietly but storming. he's not looking at anyone, just staring into the space between himself and the table. "he's a kid."

"i understand that it's heavy content," angus says. "but i think you're all approaching this the wrong way to help magnus in particular."

"and what would you suggest, angus?" the director asks. her voice is soft, and angus glances over at her, uncertain at first, but she's looking at him with an expression in her eye that reminds him of when she first took him on at the bureau. angus was even younger then, and it wasn't the first time that an adult had given him the _if you can't beat them_ treatment, but it was the first time that someone of her stature had done it, and done it in such a way that made him feel so _important._ angus knows that things have been extremely tense regarding her position with the rest of the family, but angus will never be able to forget that she is the one who took him in and gave him a family. she is the one who gave him a home when he had none.

"well," angus says, tentatively. he glances around at the assembled family, but none of them move to interrupt him. if anything, davenport and barry are a little more attentive than they were before, both of them leaning forward. even taako has looked up and has fixed his gaze on angus as well, though his expression is still glum.

angus clears his throat. "i think," he says, "that you're framing your approach through the idea of trying to get him to accept help, which is always going to be extraordinarily difficult when dealing with magnus."

"you're not wrong about that," davenport says, and motions for angus to continue. "so go on, what's the solution, then?"

"i'm not sure on the exact logistics," angus says, and he bites his thumbnail for just a second before he remembers himself and quickly pulls it away from his mouth. "um, and i think it needs to happen organically, really. he's very, er, hyper alert, i would say? he's very focused on threats and danger, and i think trying to set up a conversation about this would likely set off some alarm bells for him."

the director and davenport and barry are nodding now, and lup and merle are both watching him very seriously. taako is silent, but kravitz— kravitz is smiling, just a little, like he's _proud,_ and angus stumbles over his tongue a little at the sight of it, and a little bit of something warm blossoms inside him. he sits a little taller and pushes his shoulders back a little as he pulls his eyes away quickly.

"i think," he goes on, only stumbling once more as he pauses there for a second. "um, i think that it needs to be presented to him in such a way that it suggests that he's helping someone else. perhaps a shared feeling of— i'm not sure. but many of you have experienced similar things to those that he has, and i'm sure some of you feel very similar to how he does regarding many issues, so... perhaps some sort of bonding moment, sharing the things you've been through and how they've affected you? it may prod him to open up a bit if he thinks he's helping someone else feel better."

"it's a little contrived," lup says, but she doesn't sound like she's criticizing him so much as critiquing, building on what he's said. "i don't know how well he'd go for it, but i do think you're onto something. it might be enough to get him to open the door, just a little."

taako makes a quiet noise then, a little hum, and all eyes turn to him again. "he does this thing to me sometimes," he says, and angus's quick eyes only just catch the little squeeze that kravitz gives taako's shoulder.

when he doesn't continue immediately, lup elbows him gently and says, "yeah, babe?"

taako huffs a frustrated sigh and plants his chin in his hand, propped on top of the table. "he kind of— i don't know, like... he can tell i'm getting worked up or dancing around something and he just... says whatever he's thinking, but like. in a way that i can't pretend it's about something else."

"that might be kind of hard to pull off with him," davenport says thoughtfully. "but like lup said, i do think we're onto something. there's certainly a better chance than just blunt force trying to convince him to open up."

"for the record," taako says, and he sits up and back then, and both of kravitz's hands come to rest comfortingly on his shoulders, "i still don't think this full force whole family comes down on him thing is like, the chill thing to do."

"but you know we can't just leave it," lup says, gentle, glancing over at him. she's leaned forward now, her own chin in her hand, a mirror of taako's previous position. "you know we have to do something."

taako shrugs, and kravitz's hands ride the wave of it easily. "i don't wanna see him crash and burn," he says. "and he's already kind of crashing, so. i guess we can at least put out the fires."

the director gives angus a gentle pat on the knee from her seat next to him, and smiles in his direction. "good job, angus," she says gently.

it's small praise compared to the responses he gets to his academic papers, or the work he used to do for the world's various militia forces — but somehow it feels bigger than any of that.

* * *

angus mcdonald is the world's greatest detective. he can see through criminals, through suspects and closed off victims, through crooked cops and scared parents. he can follow a trail of clues and put together a timeline of events without expending a second thought.

angus mcdonald is also an accomplished spellcaster for his age. he's felt the power of conjuration and transmutation, evocation and illusion, all at his fingertips, just out of reach, and he's honed his skills and learned very quickly. he mastered most of his cantrips in a month, he was casting second level spells in three, and he has a small collection of fourth level spells under his belt now, after only a year and a half of study.

angus mcdonald is also a child, and a friend, and a son, and his unique experiences have given him a perspective on the world that has allowed him access to whole fields and branches of information and deduction that would have been closed off to him had he not been through the many trials that his twelve short years in this life have carried. he's not sure that he would be worse or better off for not having experienced those things, but he is certain that he would not be the person he is today were it not for those trials.

he's also certain that he still has growing to do — taako complains frequently that he needs new clothes far too often, though he also privately delights in showering angus with newer and flashier gifts each time he returns from school. but he also has emotional, mental, and spiritual growth left as well, and far be it for him to assume that at twelve years of age he's mastered absolutely all avenues of his chosen career.

but he is very smart, and very good at what he does. angus mcdonald notices and sees where other people don't. angus mcdonald pieces together things that his friends and family miss. for example, he notices every touch from ms. lup to every other member of her family, and he notices how those touches linger, how she revels in physical intimacy — and he also notices when she has to pull away, when she secludes herself in a corner and shoos even her lover away with just a small smile for comfort.

he notices, too, how merle holds himself at a distance from his children, how he pretends not to notice mavis's disdain for him, how he smiles through her sarcastic and sometimes biting comments about his presence or lack thereof in their lives. he notices how merle tries so hard to be there for them, to be there _around_ them, but how he still holds himself back, just a little, like he's afraid that too heavy a wooden hand will push them away.

and he notices how barry holds himself apart from the others. he notices how barry's connections to the others have come undone, just a little. it's not enough for even any of his family members to be aware of, but just enough for barry himself to catch. angus sees how barry attaches himself to lup and stands apart from the others, always a few paces behind, always a little quieter, a little more solitary. angus sees how a decade of trials have turned barry into a stronger, harder person, and also how those ten years made it so much harder for him to relate to the people around him. he feels his emotions in different shades than they do now, and he seems to always fear, just a little, that they will run from him, that they will cower in his presence.

angus mcdonald notices far more than anyone would expect of a twelve year old boy. he watches the people around him and he observes their actions and interactions, and he catalogs each one for future reference. he analyzes the tones of their voices, the cadence of their footsteps, the pressure behind each touch. he sees the distance that's grown between them, in their decade of separation.

but he also sees that the threads between them have not frayed to breaking, not yet. angus thinks that sometimes, adults get a little too caught up in the complication of their lives — it's easy to focus on all the little things that don't work and miss the simplicity of easy solutions. but angus sees it; angus sees how they fit together in ways that they don't even seem to notice anymore.

he sees when ms. lup gets too tired of having a body again, and she curls in on herself and pulls away from taako, away from barry, but one of them will find her, always. taako lays his head in her lap, or barry slots his fingers through hers, and while it is always a simple, thoughtless gesture, angus sees the way she relaxes into the touch, he sees how she _needs_ it, how she has to be reminded that she is real and corporeal and that her family is there with her.

angus sees how davenport forgets, sometimes. it's little things, things no one would expect him to remember, but angus sees how his brain stutters, how his consciousness shudders as he tries to keep up with information that his subconscious tells him he should have. and he sees the instinctive way that davenport's eyes turn to the others, watching their reactions and their movements, waiting for cues from their behavior. angus sees him absorb that information and breathe out, slowly, and return to whatever he was doing before.

angus sees it when the director finds herself yet again unsure of her place — is she their director? is she their note taker? is she their sister? and she pulls away, and angus sees magnus guide her back, or merle, with a hand on her shoulder or her wrist, pulling her back to the others before she drifts away. he sees how she reaches for that touch the way that lup reaches for her brother and her lover, how the director needs that touch, needs these people to hold her down, before she loses what she still has left in this world.

he sees how bitterly lonely taako is, even surrounded by his family, even with his sister just within his reach, never quite out of sight. he sees how angry he gets, how he lashes out in fear of being burned, and he sees how kravitz takes him by the shoulders and steers him back on course. he hears their quiet conversations, whispered assurances that "they love you, dear, it won't be like this always, they're trying so hard." he hears, "i'll stay with you, you don't need to face it alone, but please don't give up on them yet." he hears, "i care for you so much, my love, please trust that i wouldn't put you in a situation where i thought you could be harmed." and he sees how taako's shoulders sag, how he leans into kravitz's embrace, hears him whisper, "it won't go back to normal, will it?" and hears kravitz respond, "no, love, but one day it won't hurt so much."

and angus sees this family, this mishmash of people, he sees them gather around a table and desperately try to save the best of them. he sees them consider the bravest of them, the strongest of them, the kindest of them, and he sees the fear in their eyes that they're too late. he sees how their fingers drum with impatient terror, how their bodies shift incessantly, how their eyes dart around the room — he sees how scared they are that they've stayed too distant. he sees how fearful they are that they won't be able to do anything for magnus.

and angus understands, truthfully, where this fear comes from. angus understands how easy it is to get caught up in it. magnus has never been like this before. he's never been short, curt, and angry. he's never been so tense that he might snap, so vigilant that he might pull a weapon on someone who doesn't deserve it. he's never stayed up through the night, watching them sleep, keeping guard, not out of a sense of duty but out of his body's own unwillingness to rest.

but they miss the finer details, angus thinks. they miss the comfort that magnus takes each time the director lets him steer her back into the room. they miss the easy laughter that pours out of him when merle and taako take verbal potshots at each other. they miss the simple relaxation of his spine when he leans against carey and holds her hand in his.

this, he thinks, is what he wouldn't be able to explain to them. magnus is hurting, to be certain, but they couldn't possibly be too late. just their very presence puts him at ease, and while they can't stay here forever, while they can't keep watch over their watcher, protect their protector, offer safe haven to their security — they can offer him their hands. they can open their arms for a hug. they can bare their fears and their worries to him, and he will respond in turn. they just haven't realized that yet.

and maybe they never will. it is one of the facts of this family that they don't speak in words, they speak in actions. they speak in interlaced fingers and arms around someone's shoulders. they speak in a blanket pulled up to the chin, a tug to the wrist to pull someone into another room. they speak in breakfast, lunch, and dinner spread out across a banquet table meant to seat twenty, not twelve, and certainly not one. they speak in expended spell slots and old stories of old conquests, which are more about the memory than the words that leave their mouths.

they will help magnus. of this, angus is certain. if anyone can, if anyone is stubborn enough and creative enough to find a way to help the man who will not be helped, it is this family. it is the assembled crew of the starblaster, and the people of faerun who have become their family, too. taako and kravitz and lup and barry and merle and mavis and mookie and lucretia, the director, and davenport and carey and killian (and angus, too) will find a way.

magnus will be all right. they just have to get the rest of the way there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, come talk to me in the comments, on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia), or on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia).


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cws for this chapter: descriptions of dissociation and panic attacks; some in depth descriptions and discussions of grief; a couple allusions to sexual content; all running content warnings
> 
> hope everyone's december is starting off well! this is a very self indulgent chapter for me, because barry gets a lot of screen time and i love barry. hope everyone enjoys!!

there’s a wreath lying on a table in the market, and magnus can’t quite explain his draw to it when he sees it. it's big, large enough that he can't guarantee it will fit on the door, but certainly a good size to hang over the fireplace. carey and killian are fussing over trees and bushes and shrubs, but magnus sees the wreath and has paid for it before he's even had a chance to discuss it with them.

"hm," carey says, assessing it when he brings it over to them. "nontraditional, i guess."

magnus shrugs. "there was— there was this tradition, back home. it just..." he shrugs.

carey eyes him, and he's not stupid enough to think that she's _not_ going easy on him because of what happened earlier, but for once he decides that might be okay. it means that at least she won't press him on this.

"all right," she says with a shrug, and grabs hold of killian's elbow to wrap herself around her wife's arm. "well, k, we'll just have to invest in a big tree for ourselves next year."

"i think i can wait till then," killian says, gentle and loving, and leans over to press a kiss to carey's cheek.

they take the walk back up slowly, and it's dark by the time they reach the house again. the den is empty, except for mavis reading and mookie snoozing next to her. magnus offers her a little smile, which she responds to blank-faced and silent.

after a moment, she says, "is that for candlenights?"

magnus hefts the wreath in his hands and sends her a bigger smile. "sure is!"

she eyes him over, and then looks back down at her book. "everyone's in the kitchen."

well, that's as good as proper approval, so magnus gently sets the wreath down against the wall next to the fireplace and walks into the kitchen. they are in fact all there, gathered around looking very stoic — and all their eyes turn to him as he enters.

after a beat, merle says, "you're supposed to be louder than that."

they're all watching him very seriously, except for angus, who is just blinking up at him with a bit of surprise. "um," magnus says. "i got a wreath."

blank looks for angus and kravitz, but the rest of them perk up a little — davenport most notably. "oh goodness," he says softly. "i hadn't thought about— it's been a long time."

magnus suddenly feels very shy and uncertain about his purchase, but it's a little too late now. "i just..." and he trails off again, still uncertain as to how to explain it.

"lemme see!" lup says, and she jumps out of her chair like a child and hurries out to the den, barry not far behind. the rest of them shuffle out behind her, and there is a great deal of oohing and ahhing a moment later.

"this shit's huge!" lup exclaims, hefting the wreath above her head. "can you even get that up there, mags?"

"i can sure as hell try," magnus says, and he feels a little warmer seeing the collected reaction to it. "i don't have much up here, though, i thought we could go down to town tomorrow and pick up some stuff for it."

"hell yeah, my man," taako says, and claps him on the arm. "good pick. i don't know why these people are so obsessed with bushes, wreaths are where it's at."

"i assume there's some sort of cultural significance to the wreath, then?" kravitz asks. "i've had a good deal of exposure to various cultures' celebrations of the holiday, but i don't know that i've heard of this particular one."

"it's a thing from back home," taako says. "i don't know how the actual story goes. we heard it a hundred thousand ways, seems like every aunt and uncle had a different version of it."

"the traditional story is of two young lovers," lucretia says. her voice is soft and thoughtful, and all eyes turn to her, though her own gaze is fixed on the wreath in lup's hands. "the lovers were newly wed, but their marriage was scorned by their families, and so they were left without a home for the winter. when candlenights came, they were traveling in a forest, and while they had an abundance of plants from which to choose, they had all lost their leaves for the cold months, and so they had none with which to celebrate. but they found a fallen pine tree, the only one in the forest, and they used its branches to put together a small wreath, which they rested against the fallen trunk and celebrated their love and the turning of the year in front of it. when they fell asleep, they were visited by the spirit of istus in their dreams, who promised them good fortune and the start of a family in the new year, fate's reward for having found a way in the face of adversity."

"i always heard it was pan," merle says. he's sitting on the couch now, next to mavis and mookie, but there's a soft, reminiscent smile on his face.

"the story changed over the millennia," lucretia says. she suddenly looks bashful, aware of how long her story went on, and she folds her hands together in front of her very careful and proper. "but traditionally, it is istus."

"huh," magnus says. "that's kinda... i mean, fitting."

"the general practice," lucretia tells carey and killian, who are looking a bit bewildered still, "is that each member of the family weaves a ribbon or decoration through the wreath. it's meant to represent the lovers' fashioning of the first wreath, and the whole family taking part is a symbol of the new family with which they were rewarded."

"huh," killian says. "sure beats the hell out of a dead branch stuck in the ground."

"is that really what you do?" carey says with a bit of a giggle. "orcs are weird." killian rolls her eyes.

lup sets the wreath back down against the wall. "this was a real good fucking choice, mags," she says.

"we all get to decorate it?" angus asks. his eyes are even wider than normal behind his glasses, and he turns his face up to taako, and to magnus standing behind him.

"sure thing, little man," taako says, and he makes it sound awful nonchalant, but magnus knows there's a little more emotion there than taako would probably be willing to admit. "like the big guy said, we'll go down and buy some shit to decorate tomorrow, sound good?"

angus nods enthusiastically, and after that, they all slowly start to settle in for the night. the twins pull together a quick dinner, but no one seems to want to eat in the kitchen tonight, so they eat out of bowls on the floor of the den. it reminds magnus of nights on the starblaster more than any other meal for the last week.

after dinner, carey and killian head back down to the inn, but carey pulls magnus aside as he's letting them out and getting ready to lock up behind them. she grabs him by the arm and tugs him outside into the cold and dark, glancing behind him as she does.

"uh," he says, staggering to stay fully standing. "everything okay?"

carey glances behind him one more time, then leans up and plants a kiss on his cheek. "i'm sorry," she says.

magnus frowns heavily at her. "what was that for?"

"for earlier," she says. "and for the other night. just... for pushing you. i know— fuck, mags, i'm not good with words, you know that. i just... i'm sorry. you're my best friend."

that's not quite an apology, that last bit, but magnus knows what she means. he pulls her in for a hug and murmurs into it, “i know. it’s okay.”

“it’s not,” she mumbles back, “but thanks for pretending.”

“love you anyways,” magnus says, and steps back.

“yeah,” she says. she smiles a little sadly at him, and gives him a firm squeeze around the bicep before stepping back and reaching for killian’s hand, who has been standing off to the side and pointedly not looking. “love you too,” carey says. “see you in the morning.”

something about that— that goodbye sets magnus on edge. “yeah,” he says, maybe just a beat too slow. “i will.”

it doesn’t— it doesn’t feel right, to talk that way. it feels like he’s not going to see her in the morning. it feels like something is going to happen in the interim, like she isn’t going to make it back up the slope. it feels like _back soon._

“hey,” he says. carey and killian have turned and started down to town, fingers interlaced, but they stop and turn back when magnus speaks.

he feels suddenly very self conscious about it, but— he swallows it down. “give me a call when you get to your room?” he says. it’s not quite enough, there’s always still a chance that something else will happen, but…

“yeah, bud,” carey says. to her credit, she doesn’t miss a beat. “no problem.”

“thanks,” he says. he watches them start off again, and he doesn’t stop watching until they’ve disappeared from view.

* * *

carey does call when they get to their room, but it still doesn’t quite put magnus at ease. he somehow ends up with angus in his lap while the family sits around swapping stories that night, and it does make him feel a little better to have a living, breathing person right there up against him.

but magnus is still on edge. he still watches the door, watches everyone as they enter and leave the room — he subconsciously holds angus a little tighter when taako and kravitz retire for the night.

and it doesn't get better, as the night goes on. it fades, but only in the sense that rather than being at the forefront of his mind, it settles into the background and taunts him, menacingly bares its teeth in an ever present and threatening grin. he allows himself to fade out of the conversation and lets the rest of his family drive discussion while he watches and listens in silence — watches the doors and the windows and listens for creaks and cracks and noises outside.

he's sure that they notice, but no one brings it up — not this time, anyway. he feels like there's a big glowing sign on his back, a magical target that draws everyone's eyes to him just quick enough that he can't catch it, but magnetically enough that he couldn't dodge it if he tried.

but, graciously, they let him be. angus gets up eventually to change into pajamas, and magnus feels a little at odds with his hands empty. lup glances over at him, and magnus catches it that time, as well as the subtle elbow she gives barry, who is seated closer to him. barry, without a word, holds a throw pillow out towards magnus.

and magnus hesitates. barry isn't looking at him, his eyes still fixed on merle as he animatedly describes some adventure he took the kids on. but magnus still hesitates, waiting, until barry's arm twitches a little from the strain of suspension, and then he finally takes the pillow and hugs it to his chest — if for no other reason than just to relieve barry of that expended energy.

and the conversation flows around him, while he hugs the pillow tightly. angus comes back and settles into the couch with a blanket drawn up to his waist and a book in his lap. mavis starts to look a little put out that her strict bedtime is being interrupted, and mookie stubbornly tries to stay awake as he doodles in a notebook. it does eventually become clear that it's time for bed, and magnus has to admit privately that he is a little grateful for it, if only because it means that he won't have to endure his family's eyes on him any longer.

but even when the lights are turned out and the fire is stamped down and the noise of conversation and shuffling has faded out— unsurprisingly, sleep doesn't come.

magnus still has his pillow, and at this point he's too attached to it, and he doesn't think he could let go if he tried. he lies on his side and hugs his pillow and stares across the den to the other side of the coffee table, where lucretia is lying as well, her back to him. he watches her sides rise and fall, and he waits and waits and waits for sleep to even begin to creep in, but it doesn't.

he closes his eyes. he listens to merle's snoring, to davenport as he shifts back and forth as restless as ever. he listens to the quiet sizzle of the coals in the fireplace, he pictures angus and mavis and mookie's gently illuminated faces. he pictures taako and kravitz, lup and barry wrapped around each other, tries to imagine taako and kravitz's quiet midnight conversations, tries to imagine what lup thinks about as she meditates through the hours her lover sleeps.

but— his mind isn't gracious enough to grant him sleep. he forces himself to breathe slow and deep, to lay as still as possible, but his mind keeps racing, analyzing every corner of the house as he last saw it before he closed his eyes. one situation after another tugs at the corners of his awareness, a hundred different possibilities he has to be prepared for, a thousand points of weakness.

and eventually, as he has grown so used to doing, he gives up. he's too tired of fighting with himself — somehow there's less mental strain if he just _gives up_ and finds something else to do.

he sits up slowly, but even as he does, davenport stirs and rolls onto his back, brow creased. magnus holds himself very still as he analyzes the possibilities — there is every chance that working inside will wake davenport or someone else, which is the last thing he wants to do. outside is cold and he'll be out of reach if something happens, but he won't wake anyone, and he'll have a better vantage point on the front of the house, which is where the greatest weaknesses and the most points of entry are anyway.

so he slips into his coat and his boots, and grabs up his tools and one of his smaller projects and heads outside. the oak tree welcomes him like a familiar embrace as he settles down among its roots. the ground is dry, thankfully, but there's a light yet absolutely bone chilling breeze sweeping through the air at intervals. he snuggles tight into his coat and gets to work.

he settles into it easily, his hands moving slow and smooth and clean, and if nothing else, it at least settles his mind. the constant race of danger and possibility fades away into the old, familiar rules of his work. he doesn't sleep, which is probably a good thing given his position, but he does relax, just a little.

and then the front door opens.

the knife in his hand is a poor weapon, but he keeps his tools sharp and he has enough rogue training that the small size of the weapon won't impede him. he's on his feet and whirled in the direction of the intruder before he's even processed what he's doing.

"oh, holy shit," barry breathes, stumbling backwards and nearly tripping over completely — though, to his credit, he does have his wand out in half a second and a spell bubbling at the tip. "it's just me!"

"fuck," magnus whispers, though he can barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. "what are you _doing?_ "

"couldn't sleep," barry says with a shrug, sheepishly tucking his wand into the waistband of his pajamas. it does make magnus feel a little better to know that he's not the only one who stays armed at night, but he doesn't much like that the rest of his family still has to think about things like that with him around.

"so what are you doing _outside?_ " magnus asks. "couldn't lup put you to sleep or something?"

barry winces. "she, um... i needed some space. alone."

magnus hesitates as he carefully backs up to the tree and sits down again, setting his knife down at his side. "uh. are you two okay?"

"oh, fuck, yes," barry says quickly, and he hurriedly crosses the yard and sits down across from magnus. "no, we— we're fine, we're more than fine, i just... there's things i can't... not everything needs to be her problem, you know? she's got enough."

fair enough, magnus thinks. he certainly has no place trying to refute that logic, though it doesn't really make him feel _better_ about either of their situations. "so you were outside to..."

"actually," barry says, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck and knocking his glasses slightly askew as he does, "i was looking for you."

oh great. is this it? have they been putting off the big intervention talk for this? it's not exactly a conventional way to handle it, but magnus hardly has anywhere to run now, and it's so much harder to say no to barry than it is to merle or taako, who magnus has grown very accustomed to shutting down. he steadies himself with a deep breath and then says, "... okay. what for, exactly?"

barry mirrors magnus's behavior, subconscious or not, his shoulders rising and falling with a slow breath all the way to the bottom of his lungs. "you don't have to talk about this with me," he says finally. "i know that things... no amount of time could possibly make what you went through hurt _less,_ so i don't... i don't wanna force you to talk about things that, um, suck. but merle doesn't seem like he'd have the _best_ advice so..."

well that's— not exactly what magnus was expecting. he frowns and tries to relax back against the tree's trunk. "where exactly is this going, bare?"

barry meets his eyes for half a second, and then looks down quickly, gaze fixed on something in the dirt that magnus can't see. "i wanna ask lup to marry me," he says.

that hangs in the air between them for a moment. magnus says, "oh."

"i just—" barry breaks off and bites his bottom lip, frowning hard. "it feels stupid, right? after everything we've been through, all of us, like... what the fuck does a wedding matter? and i don't... i don't wanna diminish what it means to people, but i'm scared that— not that she's gonna say like, oh, i don't wanna spend the rest of my life and afterlife with you, because we're kind of past that point, but... it feels like this is the thing we're supposed to do next, or, i dunno, that's not the right wording, but what if she just... thinks it's stupid?"

magnus is quiet for a moment, trying to pick his words very carefully. this certainly wasn't what he was expecting, and he doesn't want to brush barry's concerns aside without treating them with care, but it's hard not to feel like all the wind has rushed back into his lungs knowing that this isn't about _him._

"have you..." magnus shrugs, feeling bad about it as soon as he does, but there is such _relief_ in his body right now. "have you two never talked about this?"

"not really," barry says. "i mean, like... it just seemed pointless at first, right? like, forty something years of buildup is a long time, and then it's all just... relief for the next fifty, and then... well. you know. yeah, there was downtime, but it just never felt like... i mean, she never brought it up, but i don't know how it even works for elves, or how it even works for lup and taako specifically, and... she's never said anything about it."

"in like, fifty something years?" magnus says doubtfully.

"bud, believe me," barry says wryly, "i have wracked my brain _endlessly_ trying to remember if she said _anything_ about this. if it happened, it was so insignificant it escaped my brain instantly. i have no idea how she feels about it."

"well, um." magnus shrugs again. "that might be a good starting point, you know?"

barry huffs, and his shoulders sag a little. "i mean... yeah," he says. "but i— if she doesn't want this, i think i'd rather just not know."

"bare," magnus says, trying to sound as gentle as possible. "you realize if she doesn't, it doesn't mean shit about how she feels about you, right?"

barry shrugs.

"bare," magnus says again, a little more seriously this time. "i mean it. you and lup have... something that a lot of us couldn't even pretend to understand. we've all watched you both become such different people because of the stuff that's between you, a fucking wedding isn't going to change any of that. or _not_ having a wedding."

"that just—" barry cuts off again with another frustrated noise. "that can't be _true,_ or else why the fuck would anyone do it in the first place? even taako is talking about it, he and krav are gonna get married one day, and... if it was really that meaningless and pointless, i don't think _taako_ of all people would want it."

"it's not meaningless," magnus says. "it's just that you don't wake up the day after you get married and suddenly everything is _different._ "

"but there—" barry sighs and then abruptly slumps backwards into the dirt, staring up at the lightly clouded night sky. "there has to be more to it than that."

"it's just..." magnus looks down, and his eyes go to his wedding ring. it rests there gently, silently, tightly, a weight both grounding and drowning. there are days he wishes he could take it off — there are other days he thinks he would float away without it.

he takes a deep breath and twists the band around his finger. "it's not going to be the same for you as it was for me," he says. "and not just because the situation is different, it— you and lup are different people than i— than we— you're _different._ it's a different relationship, it's going to mean something different. i mean, carey and i are pretty similar a lot of the time, but it's still gonna mean something different to her than it is to me, because we're still different people."

"then how did you know you wanted it?" barry asks. "if nothing _changed,_ then how did you wake up one day and know?"

magnus hasn't talked about julia out loud in... a long time. the last time may well have been in neverwinter, all those years ago, before he came back to ash and ruins and not even a corpse. it feels weighty and significant to start now, but if there's anyone who might understand, magnus thinks, it's probably the man who spent a decade in pursuit of the woman he loved. it's probably the man who tirelessly wandered the earth searching for meaning in a universe without the love of his life. it's probably barry.

"i didn't," magnus says, quietly. barry hasn't moved, still lying on his back, so he isn't looking, but magnus is very aware of how still he's gone, holding himself carefully like magnus will break away and flee if he moves too quickly — which is very well possible. magnus says, "i didn't wake up and see her different. i just... met her and knew."

barry doesn't say anything. it's very quiet, in the dark and cold, and magnus thinks that if he concentrates he might be able to hear him breathing.

"she was always special," magnus says. "she was just... different. she just had an energy that i— i knew i needed, somehow. even when... even when things were so different, there was something about her that i just... i had to be around it."

"yeah," barry whispers.

"i'm not gonna say that she shouldn't have given me the time of day," magnus says. "i was apprenticed to her father, it would have been weird if she was ignoring me the whole time, but i never thought... it didn't seem possible that she would give me that chance. we could have been really good friends, but she wanted it, too, and things just... happened naturally. i never woke up one day and thought, 'i've gotta ask her,' we just... kind of knew it would happen one day anyway."

barry lifts his arms and folds his hands over his stomach. "that's where you lose me," he says. "she _shouldn't_ have given me the time of day."

"that's not true," magnus says, immediately.

"we're completely different people," barry says. "i'm still not sure why davenport picked me for the mission, but there is a much more likely universe where he picks someone else and lup and i have _nothing_ to do with each other, ever."

magnus tries to force down a disapproving grunt and doesn't really succeed. "bare," he says. "that's bullshit."

"i love her more than _anything,_ mags," barry says, a little forlornly, "but that doesn't make soulmates a _real_ _thing._ "

"how many fucking unreal universes have we seen, bare?" magnus says. "we are not in a position to be making claims about what's real and isn't. you brought her back from the dead."

"taako brought her back from the dead," barry says.

"you built her a fucking body," magnus says. "she can touch you again, and her brother and everyone else we know, because of you."

"and someone else might have found her faster," barry says to the sky. "someone else might have known she was going to leave first. someone else might have gone with her and been there to watch her back."

"bare," magnus says, and he looks up finally and leans forward, because it's so fucking important right now that barry knows how _wrong_ he is. "listen to me. i know what you're doing."

"i'm not doing _anything,_ " barry says irritably.

"you're making excuses," magnus says, and he shouldn't say any of this, he shouldn't even think about letting these words leave his lips, but he can't hold it back. barry is _wrong_ and magnus can't let him tell himself these things. "you're scared and you're angry at yourself because one time you couldn't be there for her but you can't spend the rest of your life beating yourself up for that. it's not your fault, you're just scared because you feel insecure about the fact that the most amazing woman in any universe loves you and you don't know how to handle that."

barry frowns deeply up at the sky. "did you just call my girlfriend the— all of that?"

magnus can't help a single disbelieving laugh from escaping him. "i just know how it felt for me," he says softly.

barry is quiet then, and then whispers, "yeah. i guess so."

"you're not going to wake up as different people because you get married," magnus says. "you're not going to love each other more, or less, or different. you're just... it's a symbol. it means something, but it's gonna mean something completely different to you than it does to me or carey or merle or taako or _anyone._ it might not even mean the same thing to lup that it does to you, but that— it doesn't make it meaningless, and it sure doesn't mean that she doesn't want it just because she's never told you that she does."

"so what do i _do?_ " barry asks.

"just talk to her, bare," magnus says, and he reaches out and pats the toe of barry's boot. "tell her you want it. and my man, after like sixty years together, i can't really imagine she's gonna tell you like, fuck the institution of marriage or something."

barry laughs quietly and then finally rolls back into a seated position. he smiles bashfully at magnus, and then drops his gaze back down to his hands in his lap. "okay," he mumbles. "i guess i... i guess i have to try."

"you don't _have_ to," magnus qualifies. "but if you want it bad enough that it's bothering you like this? there's pretty much zero reason not to bring it up, because the worst case scenario is she says no and you guys are still together. bare, i'm pretty sure she knows you well enough by now that there isn't much you could do that would scare her off permanently, if that's what you're worried about."

"i'm worried about everything," barry sighs. "all the time."

"yeah," magnus says, and if it comes out a little more empathetic than he really means for it to, well... barry graciously doesn't comment on it.

* * *

magnus goes back inside when barry does, but whether that's minutes later or hours, he couldn't really say. either way, he still doesn't sleep, because now his head is filled with thoughts of julia, of his wedding and his wife and the sun setting beyond the gazebo. selfishly, horribly, a small part of him is suddenly very grateful that the gazebo isn't still standing.

he's still thinking of sunsets and soft, passionate kisses and a long night with her family and with her when the sun starts to rise. he lets the others stir awake and rise properly before he gets up himself, but he makes no secret of the fact that he was awake already, maybe just because he's too tired to pretend otherwise right now.

his family gives him a fairly wide berth that morning, for which he is both grateful and frustrated. he appreciates the space to just _simmer,_ but he also hates the way they walk nearly on eggshells around him, like he'll either break into a billion pieces or snap and attack.

it hurts a little more, he thinks, because of the slowly building buzz among the group — tomorrow is candlenights. one more day, and when midnight hits, the festivities will begin properly. magnus isn't sure what the town's plans are, given that the community has so slowly started to rebuild, and he can't remember the last time the family had a proper candlenights together, not to mention how faerun's personal candlenights traditions will have affected their own, but he can feel them all slowly sinking into the anticipation and excitement of celebration, and magnus just... can't.

it feels a little like his first candlenights as an adult on his own, set out as an adventurer without his parents there behind him, with next to no money and certainly no one with whom to celebrate. that year felt a little empty, as did the handful of years which followed before he settled into the soon to be familiarity of the ipre and the starblaster crew, and that feeling has returned now. it feels like wandering through festively decked out towns, staring up at the lights and burning candles, and wishing so desperately that it meant _anything,_ that he felt _anything_ looking at it, and having all those feelings be just out of reach.

even the wreath, sitting on his floor leaning up against the wall in the den, suddenly means nothing. he's certain this was _something_ when he picked it up yesterday, when he held it in his hands and his brain was washed over with memories of home, of his parents and of trying to recreate this tradition with his new family, in universes with candlenights and without, but it feels like nothing now.

but they call down to carey and killian and agree to meet them in the town square so they can all pick up decorations for the wreath. magnus dresses and watches as the rest of the family throws on their most festive clothes, while taako flashes through a half dozen cantrips to make all of them just a bit more colorful and a little less mismatched. when he comes to magnus, he pauses and takes in magnus's very _un_ festive coat and his usual boots and his thick pants and the look of exhaustion in his eyes that magnus can't quite find the energy to hide, and taako says, "we need to get some more coffee in you, bud."

then he flicks his wand and magnus's coat turns bright blue. "don't worry," taako says as he moves on, "i'll change it back later."

they make for quite a sight as they head down the slope into town, and though there aren't many houses to pass on the way, the ones they do come across have more than a couple gawkers in the windows. there is very little judgment as soon as they see magnus among the crowd, but they certainly don't disperse, either.

magnus trails a little bit behind, if for no other reason than just so he can keep an eye on all of them at once. taako, presumably having decided to fuck spell slots altogether, has summoned up garyl and he and angus are riding along together. davenport and lucretia are hanging closer together, and it makes magnus feel a little better to know that they've bridged a bit of the gap between them, if not quite fully yet.

most of the family is in high spirits. lup and barry are a few feet off to the side of everyone else, arms linked, and they're not talking as they walk, but they're radiating the kind of satisfied and contented energy they had in the years after the conservatory, after things fell into place. magnus is fairly certain that barry hasn't said anything yet, but the pure _love_ he can feel coming off of them is a pretty good sign either way.

they roll into town around mid morning, as most of the town's small number of shops are just opening and people are starting to set up at the stalls out in the street. taako leaps down to the ground with angus on his back and dispels garyl, and he and kravitz take each other's hands and stroll easily down the street, a perfect little family picture as they go. mookie immediately gets distracted by a display of candy in the front window of the general store and merle excuses himself and the kids to pop inside and stave off any ensuing meltdown.

carey and killian peel away naturally after they all meet up, gravitating towards a small selection of weapons dangling from the back of a traveling shop wagon that must have pulled up to town the night before, and davenport and lucretia amble down the street slowly, heads bent as they speak quietly to each other. lup and barry are a similar picture across the street, though they stop frequently to peer inside the shops as they open.

and magnus stops, stands at the end of the street, just at the edge of city center, and looks around, watching his family dissipate so easily into town, shopping and talking and quietly chatting, and he suddenly feels so very, very lonely.

julia and steven weren't avid celebrators of candlenights, but they always had a small family dinner for each night. the winter after steven took magnus on, they very deliberately included magnus in their celebrations, which he remembers now crying about one night, and not knowing why. he remembers feeling empty and frozen and _alone,_ like something was missing. he tried to remember his last candlenights and came up empty, simply couldn't remember where he'd been or who he was with, what he did and if he sent anything home to his parents, if he had a small tree or a branch or _something_ in a room in an inn somewhere and maybe an offering to some god.

he knows now. he knows that he spent that candlenights on the starblaster, hovering over faerun, watching the plane obliterate itself with the weapons he and his family created. they didn't have a wreath that year, because they were too afraid to go down to the surface of the planet and confront what they'd done, but they did take old bits of frayed clothing and they weaved that together for something _close._

candlenights with steven and julia was a quiet, simple affair. there was no massive celebration or heavy amounts of prayer. there were no offerings to the gods, no massive donations of money or big gift exchanges. steven built magnus a box, two years in — a small one, with a single hinge that cleft the box in two, with a simple opening inside, and there he'd put julia's mother's wedding ring. magnus and julia were only just barely together, but steven put a hand on magnus's shoulder and said, "i don't know where this will go, son, but you're part of the family either way. i think this is where it should go."

he gave it to magnus late one night, halfway through the holiday, when magnus was up late catching up on their backlog of orders. when magnus hadn't been able to find the words to thank him, steven just smiled and said, "get some sleep, lad," and shooed him off to his room, which he hadn't shared with julia just yet.

the next candlenights, steven gifted julia her mother's wedding dress, and gave magnus a rather significant look when julia had disappeared to her room to try it on. magnus hadn't been quite able to meet his eyes.

and the candlenights after that, they were married. they were only a few months in, and steven gifted them both the master bedroom of the house. they'd tried to turn him down, but he'd already moved most of his things down to the spare bedroom that had been magnus's before he and julia had combined their sleeping quarters — and he'd claimed weak knees, said he couldn't make it up the stairs the same way anymore. they all chose not to pick apart that particular argument.

that candlenights is special now, because it was the only one they had together as a married couple. they hadn't known what to get each other. magnus spent weeks trying to pick something significant to build, something to carve or whittle, but nothing felt right. he'd hesitated at the thought of building a crib, and then decided not to count on anything just yet and held off — now, he's glad he did.

he'd played with the thought of a headboard, but he didn't want to do that on his own. he wanted her to be a part of that project, and so he'd left it. he'd toyed with a half dozen other ideas, and finally he'd given up. and on the last night of the holiday, they sat on the porch swing of her father's house, now theirs, and he said, "i didn't get you anything," in a quiet voice, while she had her arm around his shoulders and her legs swung over his lap.

she laughed, and kissed him heavily on the cheek. "neither did i," she admitted. "nothing felt right."

"i know, right?" he said, and his voice had been weak and strained, but she reached out and tugged him down to kiss her.

"can i say something terrible and cheesy?" she asked him when they pulled apart.

he smiled, leaning their foreheads together. "could i stop you even if i wanted to?" he asked.

"absolutely not," she said, and kissed him again. "you didn't need to get me anything," she said then, "because you already gave me everything when you asked dad to take you in."

"oh man," he wheezed, and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her as close as he could. "you're terrible. who are you, even?"

"your wife," she reminded him, and he almost burst into tears then, spontaneously. he felt the lump rising in his throat, and he suddenly tucked one hand around the back of her head and pulled her face in towards him, hugging her as tight as possible.

"mags?" she asked, muffled against his shoulder. "you good, bud?"

"yeah," he whispered, and his voice rasped. "really good. perfect."

"sure about that?" she asks — but it’s not julia. "come look at swords with me and k."

he jolts hard, his whole body moving with it as he staggers back a step. his hands are shaking, he realizes, and as soon as he has his balance back he immediately reaches for his ring, the weight on his finger. "w-what?" he asks. his voice rasps — again, still.

"come here," carey says, and she reaches for his hands, pulling them apart so she can grab one of them. "swords. axes. lots of cool sharp things that we can throw at people."

"sounds great," he whispers, and lets her pull him along. he's lost sight of most of the family, except for lucretia and davenport, who have yet to actually duck into any of the stores. he tries to search for the others, counting frantically in his head but unable to get past four.

killian very kindly isn't looking at him when they approach, but she might just genuinely be absorbed in the broadsword she's inspecting, carefully holding it one-handed and thumbing the edge of the blade.

"good balance," she comments as carey approaches.

"probably won't fit on the wreath," carey points out. this is when anyone else would let go of their best friend and return to their spouse, magnus thinks, but carey doesn't let go. if anything, she holds on tighter to him, tugging him forward to inspect the many and various weapons.

"spoilsport," killian says, and flips the sword to inspect the hilt. "i could use a new sword, i'm getting tired of mauls and axes, they're no fun."

"you could use a new sword and i could use a gift idea," carey says. "we're not here for you to buy shit for yourself."

"i can think of a few things you could get me," killian says, and carey just rolls her eyes.

they’re speaking, and magnus can hear them, but he feels very far away, like the whole conversation is happening somewhere else. he says nothing, even as they both try to engage him in their weapon inspection. he should want to look at this stuff, he thinks, but he just— can't. he can't summon up the knowledge he knows he has about weapons, about shortswords and longswords, broadswords and axes, shields and daggers and small throwing stars, bows and warhammers. his brain catalogs each one, but he can't quite bring himself to comment or even speak at _all._

he tries to just focus on the feeling of his hand in carey's, and the way his ring feels against his skin where carey's fingers are laced through his. the shopkeeper isn't particularly impressed with him, but he has a nice long conversation about where he sources his materials with the girls, and magnus just watches silently and prays for this to end quickly so they can all go home.

eventually, they do both admit that they're not likely to find anything for the wreath here, and they move on, ambling through the street until they come across a small trinket shop. the owner lived in raven's roost for decades, though magnus can't quite place his name right now, and came back when he heard word that the town was rebuilding. he greets magnus with a big, wide smile when he enters, but otherwise doesn't spare any words, too busy dealing with his current customer.

"c'mon old man," taako is saying. "look at all this crap, there's gotta be some sort of deal you can give us."

"the unfortunate thing about the entire world knowing your face, sir," the shopkeeper says, with a warm look, "is that we also know that you can more than afford my prices. you're a businessman, aren't you? you know how the bottom line is."

"hmph," taako says. "i'll trade the kid for this pile of junk."

angus, hanging around next to him, splutters indignantly, and the shopkeeper laughs. killian sweeps in then and snatches angus off his feet, setting him on her shoulders as she heads deeper into the store. "don't let taako get to you, ango," she announces, loud enough for them all to hear. "he's just jealous of your boyish looks."

_don't say that,_ magnus doesn't say, because he can't, and because taako doesn't like other people fighting emotional battles for him. _that's not funny. that's not a joke._

taako just rolls his eyes and digs out his purse. "all right, fine, you win, old man," he says, and starts counting coins. "say, you wouldn't happen to know anyone who works at a fantasy costco, would you?"

seemingly satisfied that magnus isn't going to shake to a billion pieces now that someone else is around, carey finally lets go of his hand and follows her wife into the store. kravitz appears then, hands in the pockets of his elegant, ankle-length coat. he's got his dreads pinned up carefully at the back of his head, and he looks very out of place in magnus's tiny, ramshackle town. he fixes magnus with a curious look when he sees him standing there, alone.

"no luck with the shopping, then?" he says, approaching slowly. magnus feels a bit like a wild animal, and he's not altogether sure if it's because of kravitz's slow, careful gait or the horrible combination of lethargy in his bones and frantic anxiety in his brain.

he swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak, but finds his tongue dry and unwilling, so he just shakes his head. kravitz gives him a sympathetic look, then glances over at taako, who is suddenly watching them very carefully while the shopkeeper wraps his purchases for him to take home. the two of them exchange a quick look, and then kravitz puts a gentle hand to magnus's elbow and guides him carefully away, back outside.

"it's been a very long time since i celebrated candlenights," kravitz says, his voice low and soft and kind. "i can't honestly say i quite remember how it was back then, but things were very different. i remember being on the road for my last few, and i was... well, it was very lonely. and since then, i've seen plenty of candlenights, but there's little time for celebration in my line of work, and even less reason."

magnus fixes his eyes on the ground. he knows that feeling. he knows that life.

"i'm sure you know what that's like," kravitz says gently. "it's not pleasant. even with family around, it can feel very... well, they don't always understand. my queen isn't exactly the most exciting company on a holiday like this."

magnus somehow finds the strength in his vocal chords to hum a quiet note of agreement.

"eventually," kravitz says, "i started to convince myself that i didn't miss it. life on the earth, with the living. candlenights was just another feature of that, just another way that the living distract themselves from the inevitability of death, and i suppose when you start to think of yourself as a god, that's an acceptable way to think, but it did eventually come to feel very nihilistic, and i regret that i let myself get into that way of thinking. more than anything, it was probably a coping mechanism, a way to deal with the fact that i was so far removed from any living being i had ever known, and the fact that i was very likely to be alone for the rest of time."

he takes a deep, unnecessary breath, and tips his head back to study the sky above them, which is slowly growing gray and gloomy as it beings to cloud over. "and then i met taako," he says, "which is such a horribly sappy thing to say, but to be around someone who so embodies life and all its pleasures is a great comfort, and a good reminder that sometimes even the fleeting things in this world are worth the time you put into them. it doesn't need to be forever to bring you comfort or happiness or joy. i'm slowly remembering, during this entire excursion, that candlenights is a part of that as well."

he sighs then, and lets his head fall, and magnus can feel his eyes on him, studying his profile as they amble slowly down the street. "all of this i suppose to say," he goes on, "that i'm very grateful that you and your family have accepted me in as they have. i'm very thankful to be allowed a view into your world, and your lives as they may have been before so much changed. mostly, i want you to know that what you have done by bringing your entire family together here is something incredible and beautiful. a very large portion of this world doesn't have access to this kind of experience, and i think it's something to be celebrated where it can be found."

kravitz falls silent after that, and magnus knows that this is where he's supposed to speak up and say something in response, but the words won't come. he swallows, but it's forceful and it hurts and his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, and he has to stop walking and hang his head and take deep breaths and try to work through it. he can feel something inside him clawing its way up, digging talons into his stomach, his ribs, his throat.

he opens his mouth, mostly just to force air into his lungs, and kravitz's hand is gentle at his elbow. "magnus," he says. "you don't have to say anything. come here, sit down."

magnus lets himself be tugged out of the street, over to a bench in front of a nearby shop, and kravitz pulls him down to sit next to him. magnus drops his head into his hands and keeps trying to breathe; out of the corner of his awareness, he hears kravitz hum something quiet, and a hand lands on the back of his neck. magnus tenses harshly and shoulders the arm away from him — kravitz murmurs, "i apologize," and then doesn't speak again.

and they sit there — for how long, magnus doesn't know, but they are both silent. magnus can feel himself shaking as he works through this, as he forces back the static in his brain and the heavy fuzziness in his mouth. he can hear footsteps out on the streets around them — it's late morning now, and people are starting to empty out onto the street as they begin their days, and the thought of them _staring_ becomes all encompassing. the thought of them _watching,_ wondering what's wrong with him—

and the biggest problem is that he doesn't even _know._ all he knows is that his brain is broken, that he's alone even as he's surrounded by family, that he's isolating himself even as he reaches out for them. there's something inside him that just isn't _right_ anymore, and maybe it never was. maybe once, a long time ago, he was okay. maybe before he got onto a spaceship and watched his home and everyone he'd ever known be devoured, maybe everything was okay then. maybe he was normal then. or maybe it's the hundred years of forced codependency on other people, or maybe it's fisher's static, maybe it's julia and steven dead and nothing in the world left for him, maybe it's having all that he built for _himself_ ripped away, maybe it's just— everything.

and maybe it's not. maybe it's something that's laid in wait inside of him his entire life, and this is the first time he's ever had to be quiet, and still, and it was waiting like a pack of wolves. it watched him and stalked him until he got too sick or too injured or too _normal_ and strayed from the herd, and now it's got its teeth sunk into him, and he doesn't know if there's anything left that can free him from that bite.

and what if someone tries, and the rest of the pack descends? what if taako or lucretia or carey holds out a hand and tries to help him, and the wolves take them, too? what if magnus takes what little good they've built for themselves out of _nothing_ and drowns them in the pit of mud and black ink that his mind has become? they can escape now, because they have people and places in their lives that they can turn to, but if magnus asks them, if magnus _tells_ them, he could drag them down into nothingness with him.

and there's nothing he can _do_ about it. it's not going to go away on its own, and he doesn't want help, and he couldn't ask for it even if he did, so—

so... what?

he feels a little hollow, thinking about it. so is this his life now? barely contained breakdowns in the middle of the street, nightmares plaguing him every time he closes his eyes, his body running on threads of energy, constantly looking over his shoulder and trying to look over his family's shoulders from hundreds of miles away — is that just how he lives now? forever?

"magnus," kravitz says quietly then, breaking his train of thought. "i know this may not be easy to answer, but is there anything i can do for you?"

how does he even begin to answer that? what _can_ kravitz do for him? what can anyone do? if magnus asks for help, it's not going to get better. there's no way for anyone to fix this, there's no way for anyone to _help,_ he just—

"krav?"

kravitz starts, which sends a jolt down magnus's spine, but he doesn't have quite the composure to react properly, and it's probably a good thing, because kravitz breathes a sigh of relief a second later. "lup, could you get taako?" he asks. "he may be a bit better at helping with this than i am."

"sure thing, bossman," lup says, and she sounds a little uncertain, but magnus hears her footsteps receding.

"is—" that's barry now, from where lup was standing, but he cuts himself off. _is he okay?_ magnus fills in the blanks. _no,_ he responds. _he's not. he's falling apart in front of us._

"i think we're better off letting someone else step in," kravitz tells barry, in a tone of voice that magnus thinks may fit their work headspace a little better than wherever the fuck they are right now.

which— _fuck,_ magnus is tired of this. he's tired of getting passed around, shuffled from carey to taako to kravitz back to taako — he's a fucking adult, and he doesn't _want_ their help. they would know if he did, he would fucking tell them, he wouldn't sit here in silence and—

"fuck," he breathes, the first word that's left his mouth in what feels like days.

he can feel both of them shift their attention back to him, which is the exact opposite of what he wanted, but what the fuck ever, he supposes. there's nothing for it now.

"magnus?" kravitz prompts.

he shakes his head furiously, digging his fingers into his scalp and tugging at his hair. he needs them to stop _looking_ at him, it's bad enough with all these strangers around, it's bad enough with the full sunlight pouring down on him, and soon it won't just be all the strangers who know, it'll be taako and angus and carey and killian back in the little novelty store, then lucretia and davenport, then merle and the kids, and magnus is _tired_ of them staring at him like he needs help when helping him is only going to make things worse for _everyone._

"hey, mags," barry says, a little anxious. "you're gonna hurt yourself like that, bud, relax."

"barry," kravitz says, a little exasperated. "do you really—"

"i just—" barry cuts off again, and then huffs a loud sigh and says, "let me try something?"

"i don't think—" kravitz says, but he breaks off for reasons magnus can't quite parse, and then there's footsteps and he can sense a presence in front of him, squatting maybe, but magnus can't open his eyes or look up to see.

"hey, mags," barry says again, but it's quieter this time, and a little more assured than he usually sounds. he sounds like lich barry, like barry in his cave, in front of his big glowing tank and his naked, soulless body, like he's been here before and he knows what to do.

magnus doesn't know what it is about that tone that eases itself under the crack of the door he's got so firmly locked. "hey, bare," he says, and his voice rasps, but it comes out, and that's... something, right?

"hey," barry says, barely more than a whisper. "hey, look, can you— hey, tell me about your wedding."

magnus looks up then, more out of surprise than anything else. barry is squatting in front of him, just enough space between them that he hasn't inserted himself into his bubble, but close enough that magnus could reach out and touch him if he wanted. "what?" he whispers.

"it's—" barry shoves his glasses up his face, a little anxious, his eyes comically large behind the lenses. "when things were... you know, before, when things weren't great, and i needed to like... ground myself, i thought about lup. and some, um, some really important moments, and some special stuff that happened between us. just— that was a good day, right? the day you got married."

unbidden comes the image of magnus in the front yard, working endlessly on the gazebo in between other projects, and julia waving to him fondly from inside, beckoning him back into the house when the sun started to set and it became increasingly likely that he would miss with the hammer and hit a finger. and comes the image of julia in her wedding dress, the softest, fondest smile on her face, just for _him_ despite the dozens of people gathered to watch them, and—

"yeah," he breathes. "it was a good day."

"yeah," barry echoes. "tell me about it. were you scared?"

"no," magnus whispers. "she loved me. i loved— we knew we wanted it."

"what did she look like?" barry asks, so soft, and if magnus didn't know to look for it, he might have missed the little note to barry's question, the other thing he's asking.

"she was—" magnus starts, and then stops. _beautiful_ doesn't cover it. of course she was beautiful, she always was — stained in blood or rust or dirt or sweat, she was always beautiful. she always burned with life and exuberance and a thankfulness for the simple fact of their existence, like she knew something about the universe that magnus didn't. and on the day of their wedding, he knew, unquestioningly, that she was promising to share that secret with him, and spread some of that knowledge into his life, to give him a chance for some tiny fraction of that happiness that she'd had for her entire life, and that maybe he would be able to understand some part of it too, now.

"she looked really... really happy," he says, finally. "like she'd waited forever, and now she was getting— she could— she was getting what she wanted."

barry smiles at him, just a little, wistful and gentle and soft. "it was here, right? in raven's roost."

"at her house," magnus says. "at— our house. i built, uh. the gazebo. it's not there anymore."

barry shifts his weight, knees in the dirt, and reaches out very carefully to lay a hand on magnus's knee. "i bet that was real pretty, mags," he says.

"the sun came through, and—" magnus cuts off, momentarily blinded behind his eyes by the memory of the light on julia's face, and on his, and the warmth against his skin that matched the warmth in his chest and in their palms, pressed together. his jaw clenches a little tighter.

"magnus," barry says quietly. "hey, bud. talk to me."

magnus forces a long breath in, but it's shaky and rough. kravitz has moved to standing, hovering a few feet away now — whether to give them some room or because he's not sure about staying so near magnus is unclear.

"it was perfect," magnus whispers, and his voice breaks still, a crack of volume through that attempt at quiet, and then he can't stop the rush of emotion that comes next. he doubles over, reaching for barry's hand, and clenches it hard in his as it overtakes him. the sob that rips out of him isn't unfamiliar, but it _hurts,_ wrenching at his chest muscles and his lungs, already strained from the feeling that he can't _breathe._

"hey," barry murmurs, and he reaches up and clasps a hand at the back of magnus's neck, pulling him in close. "it's okay. i know. it's okay."

"what—" he hears taako's voice, distantly, but he quickly falls silent, and magnus just holds tight to barry's hand and rests his forehead on his shoulder.

"i know," barry whispers in his ear. "you miss her, i know. it's okay. you're supposed to miss her. she was perfect, you loved her. how could you not miss her?"

magnus can't answer, couldn't think of a response to that even if he tried. he can practically see her now — the way she looked when they first met, the way that flecks of blood clung to her cheek mid-battle, the way she pressed her hips to his and slid a hand between their legs, the smile on her face whenever he finished a big project and turned to her to show it off. it stands out so clear in his mind, a picture perfect reminder, and he realizes suddenly that he may be the only person left in the universe who remembers her face. he might be the only person alive who knows what she looked like on their wedding day, how she skipped down the streets bursting with laughter after she told him a bad joke.

it hurts all over again, then, that she's gone — he'll never hear that laugh again. he won't ever see her face, he'll never hear her voice, he'll never feel her hands in his, or her weight on his back as he piggybacked her up from town after a romantic dinner. the finality of it, the _permanence_ of it, shakes him, wresting another desperate sob from his lungs.

"shhh," barry says. he pulls away a little, turns to the side. "lup, could you— he needs some space, i've got it."

"sure, babe," lup says, and magnus holds his breath until he can't hear the receding footsteps any longer, and then he lets it go and sobs into barry's shoulder again.

"i know, man," barry says, and then he doesn't speak again for a while. he sits there, kneeling in what must be an uncomfortable position, with magnus's head on his shoulder, one hand on his neck and the other still clasped tightly in magnus's, and lets him cry.

it's horrible and embarrassing and exhausting, and magnus wants it to be over with almost as soon as it starts, but every time he starts to calm down, another memory flashes through his mind — the places they used to go that no longer exist, the stories he told her of his youth that weren't entirely true because he didn't _know,_ the shiver that went down his spine the first time they kissed, and the knowing look that steven gave them when they snuck back into the house later.

but barry doesn't complain or protest — he just stays there, and he gently rubs magnus's neck and squeezes his hand in return.

it does eventually subside. magnus takes a breath that is a little less shaky, unbroken by sobs, and he notices finally the faint burning sensation behind his eyelids, and the wetness of barry's shirt underneath him. when a few second pass and there's no further sobbing, he pulls back slowly, sits up just a little, and reaches up to rub at his eyes.

barry drops his hold from magnus's neck, but he doesn't pull his hand away from magnus's just yet. "you okay?" he asks quietly.

magnus takes another deep breath, almost just to check. "yeah," he says finally, voice raspy. "i— yeah. sorr—"

"don't," barry cuts him off, so fast that magnus almost flinches. "okay? please. don't. i get that it's embarrassing, but if anyone understands what that feels like, it's me, okay? so just... don't apologize to me for missing your wife."

"s— yeah," magnus mumbles. "i mean, it—"

he stops himself, because he'd been about to say _it wasn't just about julia,_ because it wasn't, but there's two problems there. the first is that he doesn't _know_ what it was really about to begin with, except that his fucking brain is broken; and the second is that he doesn't need to drag barry into that anymore than he already has.

"i know," barry says. "magnus, man, really? i get it. like... more of it than you probably realize. i had a lot of time to think during, you know, everything. stuff got bad sometimes. i don't wanna— i mean, i don't know your exact stuff, but it all gets messed up sometimes. it's hard to say exactly what started it to begin with or why it ends up where it does. i know."

magnus looks down at the ground between them, licking his lips slowly to give himself time to think — but the words don't come. there's nothing to say to that, and maybe that's kind of the point. maybe he doesn't need to say anything.

"yeah," he says. "that... yeah. thanks, bare."

barry squeezes his hand, a little smile on his face, and then finally lets go. magnus's palms feel sweaty and clammy suddenly, but barry doesn't comment on it. he just pats magnus on the knee and then slowly levers himself to his feet with a grunt, considerably less limber than he was a hundred years ago, which maybe doesn't make any sense, but he was never particularly athletic to begin with.

"c'mon, bud," he says, and reaches a hand out for magnus again. "let's go find everyone else."

* * *

not for the first time, magnus is a bit put off by the way that absolutely no one talks about it — but then, he's not sure what he wanted them to do, either. regardless, taako doesn't press him, seemingly too absorbed in shopping with kravitz and angus. magnus ends up pressed between barry and lup, each with an arm looped through his as they wander down the streets behind taako's trio. and no one says a word to him about it.

carey and killian seem to have wandered off on their own mission, but slowly the family reassembles in the streets, arms full of their collective purchases. it's only when everyone has gathered around him, laden with gifts and with trimmings for the wreath, that magnus realizes he hasn't actually bought a single thing.

lup and barry seem to notice his realization before anyone else, and they share a conspiratorial glance around his body before lup announces, "i've got one more place i wanna stop, we'll meet everyone for lunch?"

taako glances over at them, eyeing magnus over for just a second before returning his attention to studying the sky. "sure," he says nonchalantly. "mags, got any recommendations?"

"the tavern," magnus says. "tell eleanor i sent you."

"sounds like a plan," taako says. "see you in a few."

he shoots lup a look that magnus can't decipher, and lup just shrugs in response, which sheds absolutely no light on the exchange. but before he can try to puzzle it out any further, she turns and tugs him back up the street, arm still linked with his, and magnus and barry are pulled along magnetically.

"you need to get gifts for anyone, big guy?" lup asks. she's on the wrong side of the street to be peering into shops now, but that doesn't stop her from leaning around him to stare into window displays like they haven't passed them all a half dozen times by now.

technically, the answer definitely is yes, but he doesn't want to keep them from lunch for too long, and he thinks he has enough time before gift exchanges begin in earnest that he can put together some handmade things with enough heart in them. "probably just something for the wreath," he says.

it feels a little uncomfortable, to acknowledge in a roundabout way that he hasn't done absolutely any shopping because he was too busy with that whole breakdown earlier. it feels like giving in, to let himself be led up the street by his friends, sandwiched between them in an awkward and horrible way that keeps them separated, but he knows lup well enough to know that trying to wriggle out of this probably won't end well for anyone.

"that shop we were in earlier with taako had some nice stuff," lup says. if she's aware of the minor turmoil inside of him (and knowing her, she most certainly is), she doesn't bring any attention to it.

"worth a try," magnus says softly, and lets himself be guided back up the road to the little trinket shop.

the old man is still at the counter when they walk in, and magnus exchanges short but friendly greetings before lup gets impatient and pulls him deeper into the store. it's dimly lit, but the shelves are packed with odds and ends for which magnus couldn't possibly imagine a use. and yet each one seems to hold some story that he feels is just out of reach — how did it end up here, and why? who made it, who put love and care into its design and its workings, and then decided they didn't need it anymore? there's dishware and knickknacks, shoes and children's toys, blankets and a whole rack full of just ribbon in a hundred brilliant colors, and magnus doesn't even know where to start.

neither lup nor barry offer any commentary, though they do slip their arms from his when the aisles get a little too crowded. magnus can't ignore the way they gravitate towards each other as soon as he isn't in the middle, clasping their hands together tightly and automatically, without thought, and they follow him quietly and comfortably down the aisles as he inspects the wares. it feels nice and comforting in a way he wouldn't have thought it would or could.

he finally pauses in front of a shelf full of small ceramic and porcelain figurines. there has to be hundreds of them, crammed together so tight that it's hard to even see them all, particularly the ones at the back, but magnus finds his eyes drawn to them. there's a charming sort of lack of detail to them, perhaps because it's so much harder to work with them than it is with wood. they're all curves and slopes, none of the sharp edges that would help to define any particular part of them, but when magnus picks them up they feel good in his hands, cool to the touch and smooth against his fingers.

and there's one, tucked about halfway back and off to the side — magnus doesn't know why his attention is drawn there. it's not any bigger than the others, no brighter or more detailed, but his eyes fall on it and he plunges his hand back to carefully extract it without knocking over any of the others. it's a small dog, more a puppy than anything else, with indiscernible eyes and a dull brown color.

"always a dog person, huh, mags?" lup says, finally breaking the silence and elbowing him gently.

"i—" magnus pauses, thinking he should say something more and not knowing what exactly it should be. "yeah," he says finally, and then, because he's lost control of his brain and his tongue and everything else, he says, "julia really liked dogs."

they're quiet for only half a beat too long, and then barry says, "did you have any?"

magnus shakes his head, weighing the playful little figure in his hand, trying to figure out if it'll be too heavy for the wreath. "we talked about it," he says, his voice growing quieter. "but it never... it wasn't the right time. new house, new— everything."

barry hums quietly, and lup says nothing, just sidles up a little closer to barry and rests her head on his shoulder. "looks good to me," she says. "unless you wanna keep looking?"

it's a good weight in his hands, and— those memories with julia, talking about puppies, talking about babies disguised as talking about puppies, talking about the future... it doesn't hurt as much as it should, maybe. part of it might be that he's too tired to think through all that right now, to try to unravel the explanation, but it feels good, to have one happy memory that doesn't make him feel so... tired.

he lets out a slow breath and says, "no, i think i'm good," and lup and barry smile at him in a way that makes him feel a little less silly.

* * *

by the time they reach the tavern, everyone has been seated at the big long community table in the center and they've started in on drinks. it's a little busier than normal, probably the incoming holiday, and eleanor and her staff are bustling cheerfully around the dining room, visibly happy for the business.

"there's the big man!" she crows when he and lup and barry walk in. she's laden down with two large trays of food, but she stops just long enough to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek as he comes through the door before hurrying along to her table. "rest of your family's already in!" she tosses over her shoulder as she goes.

which, to be fair, magnus could have figured out without the help — the table takes up a good portion of the dining room, and the family has crowded around it happily and noisily. in fact, it might not be quite as busy as magnus first supposed — it might just be the noise of his family all gathered in one public space.

he half feared that they would have left the head of the table open for him, but instead they've forced davenport in on one end, and merle's taken the other. magnus seats himself next to carey, and lup and barry slide into spots across from him, next to taako and kravitz. they've already ordered a round of drinks, and mookie keeps trying to sneak snips from merle's tankard, but luckily he's not quite quick enough on the draw. mavis looks very tired by the proceedings.

when it comes, the food is hearty and warm, and taako and lup are very quiet during that section of the meal, which magnus takes as a good sign only because he knows how good, warm, home-cooked food makes them feel. taako doesn't talk about it so much, but lup has recounted a good dozen or so stories over the years of nearly forgotten memories, sitting at big tables like this one with caravans full of people they didn't quite know, but had all been brought together by life's most indulgent necessity.

it's not quite the same now — they all know each other very well, possibly too well. but it feels _good_ to sit down and just eat and rub elbows with his best friends and his family and feel... safe.

and that's probably the most striking thing of it all — magnus lets his guard down. he has a knife tucked in his boot, because that's the world he lives in and that's how his father and the power bear and carey and the universe in general have trained him to be, but he doesn't tense every time the door opens. he has all his family right within sight of him, and they're all happy and fed and safe, with warm coats tucked over the backs of their chairs and smiles spread across their faces, and magnus doesn't even have to turn his head to count them all.

maybe that in particular should be a bigger concern, that he's even worried about counting them at all, but he pushes that aside, numbering one to twelve by the soft sounds of their voices and the gentle knock of spoons and forks against wooden bowls and plates, and then he goes around the table once more in a comforting loop. they're all here, and they're all happy, and just for a second — he lets himself admit that maybe that wouldn't be true if it wasn't for something _he_ did.

kravitz has said it, and merle and davenport and others, but maybe magnus did something... good. maybe he fixed something here. even lucretia and taako aren't quite avoiding each other — they're certainly not in each other's space, but they're not sitting at opposite corners and pointedly averting their gaze from each other. lucretia laughs softly at taako's jokes and jibes, and taako doesn't stiffen and recoil every time he hears it.

and carey and killian look happy and comfortable, embraced in magnus's family in a way that he didn't think would necessarily happen. kravitz and angus have been folded in too, and mavis and mookie have a bit more of a blood tie than any of the other additions, but lucretia and davenport tell them stories from across the table that keep even the most long suffering and the most inattentive of children entertained.

it's... good. it's warm. it's safe. everyone is okay.

and yet, even in that moment, magnus feels removed from it. it's happening in front of him, but it's not quite happening _to_ him. he doesn't let himself dwell on that feeling, because what matters more is that everyone is here and okay, but it does settle a little uneasily on him that he isn't really a _part_ of it. he stays mostly quiet, counting and recounting and eating happily, but it lingers in the back of his mind constantly and consistently — this isn't for him.

and that's really what it boils down to in the end — his family is happy and safe, but magnus has to remove himself from that. he can't quite be a part of that with them, because he has to create it for them, and safeguard it, and that will probably always be his responsibility. he doesn't think he used to hold himself so distant from it, but he was younger then, and he didn't quite know or understand the universe's myriad ways of taking people from each other, hurting people, sneaking in under the door or through an open window to snatch something away just when things are good.

but it's candlenights, or it almost is, so he tries not to think about it too much. he lets his family's conversation and quiet eating noises flow around him and he counts them every few minutes, he keeps one eye on the door. but he feels... safe, still. somehow.

eleanor still won't let him pay, but he gives carey a rather significant look while eleanor has her back turned. carey performs a masterful little slight of hand trick and magnus's coin disappears somewhere into one of the pockets on eleanor's apron. the family gathers itself together, merle and lucretia helping the kids into their coats while taako and lup and kravitz dramatically wrap themselves in their own outerwear and the rest of them dress like normal people. a handful of guests stop magnus on the way out, holding him back just long enough that the family is getting impatient outside on the street waiting for him.

the two young women whose house he finished just before taako's arrival stop him last, and carey is waiting by the door for him to follow, but he gives in and waves her on, mouthing, _'i'll catch up.'_ she shrugs and ducks outside, and magnus turns back to the two girls and shakes their hands.

they are emphatic with their thanks — one of them is near tears, grateful beyond belief. their words are quiet but sincere, and magnus is more than moved by it. it feels _good,_ to have had such a concrete impact in a meaningful and helpful way. they pull him in for a hug, and he tenses a little at the start, but it's hard not to be drawn in by their sincerity and emotion, and he relaxes into it quickly.

finally he extricates himself and leaves them to their meal, and he turns toward the door and hunches into his coat. it's midday by now, and it's grown warmer as the day slogs on, but he can still feel the chill in the air lingering around the door and the windows. he takes a deep breath and resigns himself to a short, lonely, brisk walk to hopefully catch up with his family before they reach the house and can't get in without magnus's key.

and then he opens the door, and the small crowd of people outside turns towards him in synchronization. taako frowns at him. "it's about time," he says.

magnus stills, staring at them a bit bewildered. "i told you i'd catch up," he says.

"sure you did," lup agrees, appearing suddenly at his side and threading her arm through his again. barry is at his other side a moment later, bracing him as well. lup elbows him gently in the side and says, "but it's candlenights, my guy."

"huh," magnus mumbles, and lets lup and barry tug him along to the front of the crowd of their family, leading the trek back up the slope. maybe it's his coat tugged up to his chin, or maybe it's their bodies on either side of him, but he doesn't feel the chill quite so much.

* * *

magnus thinks that this is probably the most chaotic wreath decorating process that has ever taken place across any plane of existence in any universe that has ever existed and ever will.

problem number one: the indecisiveness of children. this would not surprise him with mookie, but it seems to be very, very important to both mavis and angus that they place their little trinkets in the _exact_ right spot. it's a good fifteen minute process of angus winding a boldly colored strip of ribbon around various spots in the wreath and then testing out different knots, while mavis uncertainly tries to find the perfect spot to work in her muted tone beads.

mookie, thankfully, is not taken by this agonizing process. he has a wad of children's clay that he slaps into a spot near mavis's beads, and then he turns his attention to wrestling more ghost stories out of barry and lup and kravitz.

problem number two: the indecisiveness of _adults._ taako and lup spend a good time bickering over perfect placement, and carey and killian insist that their additions need to go next to each other. davenport spends a good amount of time trying to control the chaos, but he eventually gives up and slumps into magnus's armchair to wait his turn. there's another argument that breaks out when lup notices that merle has moved barry's ornament, and that takes a good five minutes before barry convinces her that it really doesn't matter all that much.

magnus finds all the bickering strangely comforting, though. it's frustrating, to be sure, but somehow it doesn't quite bother him like it maybe should. it might be the noise, or the bustle, or maybe it's just the fact of having a physical representation of his family's relationship and interactions slowly come into existence, but he finds himself laughing and relaxing further than he did even at lunch. he does privately have to admit that it does feel a little better to do so knowing that railsplitter is only a room away.

finally, though, everyone gets their ornaments and ribbons and decorations worked in, and magnus affixes his little dog in underneath carey and killian's shining gold bands and next to kravitz's almost comical skull shaped ornament, and then he has killian hold the wreath in place while he hammers a nail into the wall above the mantle to keep it up.

in a display of almost farcical holiday joy, the entire family erupts into cheers and applause once the wreath is in place. and to be fair, magnus does have to take a moment to appreciate how picturesque it looks. his house has always looked earthy and homey, and the wreath only adds to that atmosphere — though he supposes it helps too when lup casts a casual spark of prestidigitation at the fireplace and ignites it.

dinner that night is informal — they can't quite be bothered to move to the kitchen where the wreath will be out of sight, and lup and taako aren't feeling the whole ordeal of a family feast, so they magically reheat some leftovers from the last few nights and spread it all out over the coffee table to share. they all dip into various bowls and mix and match meats and side dishes that don't quite go together and admire the wreath and tell stories, and it's maybe the most comfortable night yet.

carey and killian stay far later than normal, tucking their heads against each other and letting themselves be cajoled into telling stupid romantic stories. there's a little blush to both their cheeks as they tell it, but carey shrugs and forges ahead regardless. "and then i see this gorgeous, tall, crazy orc just _throwing_ axes left and right," she says, "and i thought, damn, i gotta get a piece of that."

killian rolls her eyes and pulls away from carey a little, probably a little more embarrassed by the public display of affection now. "don't make it sound so flattering, dear," she says dryly.

"oh, i'm sorry," carey says, pressing a hand to her chest. "let me emphasize, i saw a good thirty axes get chucked across the room, and at least twenty of them ended up in someone's gut or head or spine. very good aim. impeccable, even. i just knew i had to have her."

"you're the worst," killian says. "you know how that went for me? i'm buried under a pile of crazy fucking goblins trying to kill me, and i just manage to get myself out of that situation, and the first thing that happens afterwards is this weirdo dragonborn with blood for brains comes up and asks me where i learned to throw an ax with that kind of precision, and can i _please_ teach her, and all i can think is, oh god, _this_ is who the director sent to get me out of this?"

"and then you fell in love," carey declares, and leans her head back on killian's shoulder. "and that's how the story goes."

"romantic," taako says. "mine tried to kill me, so hey, it could be worse."

"mm, how funny, so did mine," kravitz says with a pat on taako's knee.

"i was not trying to _kill_ you," taako says, rolling his eyes. "i didn't even know you! and you most definitely started it, so it was self-defense anyway."

"well, that's not how i remember it," kravitz says. "you could have come easily."

taako opens his mouth to say something, and then glances down at angus and seems to decide against whatever horrible thing was about to come out of his mouth. he _hmphs_ and sits up a little straighter, sticking his tongue out at kravitz, and says, "and if i had, who would've saved all of known existence, hm?"

"fair point," kravitz allows. a little smile plays with his lips, and there's a fond look in his eyes, and taako gets flustered very quickly and looks away, prompting a small chuckle from the gathered masses.

"first time i saw the kids' mom," merle says from his spot on the floor, "she was kickin' some guy outta her shop. i was on the circuit with some pamphlets and she looked pretty upset and i figured she could use some good in her life, so i stopped by and offered her some reading material, and she just about took my head off."

there's quiet for a moment, and then lucretia says, "merle, you're going to have to stop asking why no one comes to you for romantic advice."

merle roars with laughter at that, though no one else seems to find it quite as funny — certainly not mavis, who looks very put out at the story, but she just huffs and goes back to her book.

"i've got a good one," lup says, and barry starts groaning before she's even got the full sentence out.

"you know, don't think i actually know this one," merle says, having calmed from his laughing fit.

"it's embarrassing," barry grumbles. he's very carefully not making eye contact with anyone, least of all lup. "it was the first day of ipre training, none of us made a good impression on anyone."

"i wouldn't say that," davenport says. "your application was excellent, barry. magnus's, too, on the physical section, at least. the rest of you..." he trails off, shrugging.

"oh, but day one was something else," lup says. "ko and i walk in and we're determined not to put in too much work for the first week, trying to scope out the competition, right? we've got like three months of training before selection even happens, so we're just gonna take it easy and ace the selection tests, because that's just how we do. and then we walk in day one and there's this huge fucking nerd sitting front row—"

"it wasn't the front row," barry cuts her off plaintively. "i never sat in the front row, especially not after this."

"—sitting front row," lup repeats, "and he looks like literal death, no offense, boss man. like, dude looks like he's about to pass out. he's got this massive thermos of coffee and it's like seven am because cap's got a boner for waking up way too fucking early, and this guy's thermos is like... empty. jittery as all hell, but also like, he might just be sleepwalking, just judging from his face."

"you're killing me," barry says. "why do you do this to me? why do you purposely try to kill me in front of our family?"

"quiet, barold," taako cuts in. "it's a good story."

"it's a great story," lup agrees, and pats barry on the thigh before continuing. "so taako and i look at this guy, and we look at each other, and ko says, 'we are not sitting anywhere near that dude, he's gonna piss his pants in the middle of class and we're gonna see the whole thing.'"

taako cuts in again, "and lup says, 'are you kidding? that sounds hilarious!' and plants her ass directly next to this dude who is absolutely going to have a nervous breakdown at the absolute least embarrassing."

"i wish that's what happened," barry moans.

"i'm a friendly gal," lup says, as if no one has interrupted. "so i introduce myself and i introduce taako, and ever charming as he is, barold here looks at me, hasn't even told me his name, and says, 'i'm sorry if i throw up on you, i haven't slept for three days and i've had four cups of coffee since midnight, so you might wanna sit somewhere else, because you're very pretty and i would be very embarrassed,' which is pretty fuckin' eloquent for a dude literally running purely on caffeine."

barry very much looks like he just wants to disappear at this point.

"and i am stunned into silence," lup says. "which i think we all know is quite a feat. but i pull myself together and like, i'm a decent wizard, right? so i offer to throw together a spell for him but he's like no that's fine, i'll be fine, and whatever, cool. i mean, i got a nice compliment out of it so like, thanks. also good work, bare, getting the compliments out that early. very smooth. but so class starts, davenport walks in and starts talking, and we're supposed to take these tests, which we all know about, obviously, and he passes them out and says okay, get to work. and taako and i are totally cheating off each other the entire time, and there's a couple people in the corner who are like whispering to each other and everyone looks over at them but cap doesn't say anything, and then like, really slowly, we all realize this isn't like... a real test. like we're allowed to talk about it? and the real test isn't the questions, it's like, how you get the answers. like process and shit."

"i did so very badly on that," lucretia muses softly.

"me too," merle agrees, "but i didn't answer most of it, either."

"i think i was one of the people whispering," magnus admits.

lup snorts. "yeah, no surprise at any of that. well, so anyway, taako and i eventually are just like, okay, well if we're allowed to cheat, why the hell are we just gonna cheat off each other? so i turn to the dude next to me, because he seems smart, i mean, nerd in the front row with the glasses and the four cups of coffee, he's gotta know the answers, right? and we're pretty stumped on one of these questions, so i turn to him and before i can even open my mouth i realize this guy is straight up just crying and staring into space."

"please," barry moans, slumping lower on the couch. "just let me die in peace."

"so of course," lup carries on, "being as kind and concerned as i am, i'm like, 'uh, hey dude, you good?' and this guy doesn't even look at me, he's just like, 'i stayed up for four days straight studying for a test where you're _supposed_ to cheat,' and then he just passes the fuck out. which is absolutely not funny and he got a pretty nasty bump on the head, but i mean, he did ace the selection test."

"i was late to that," barry says, half in a whimper. "i slept for sixteen hours before the selection test because i didn't wanna go into it like that stupid pre-test."

davenport looks a little embarrassed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "i knew people might not take it very well, but i certainly didn't expect... that kind of reaction," he says.

"it's really not your fault, cap," lup says. "bare's a huge fucking nerd and he probably would have thought that the real test was to see who didn't cheat or some shit. or he would've been a goody two shoes about it and studied anyway. but so like, point of the story is, you don't have to make a _good_ first impression to get the girl, or whoever. just gotta make an impression at all, apparently, because here we are now."

"you know what my first impression was?" barry says, his face hidden behind his hands now. "here's this absolutely gorgeous woman who has chosen to sit next to me for some reason, this has got to be either some cosmic entity playing tricks on me, or else i've been awake so long that i'm hallucinating. i don't even remember the test, i was so tired and stressed. i just remember waking up in the institute's infirmary and all i could think was, oh god, was she _real?_ "

everyone gets a pretty good laugh out of that, and lup most of all, face splitting in a wide smile as she leans in to plant a kiss on barry's cheek. "you're so sappy," she tells him, and he gives her a bashful little look.

magnus— he's not actually sure what possesses him in that moment. something in barry's tone, in the _'was she real?'_ , snags in his mind. it reminds him of julia, of thinking that he couldn't possibly be so lucky, so fortunate, that the world couldn't possibly work out like that. his mouth opens of its own accord, and he's not even really looking at any of them anymore, just kind of staring into space as the memories roll back to him. "i saw her two days after i came to town," he says, and he's distantly aware of all attention snapping to him, but for once, he finds that he doesn't care.

everyone is absolutely silent as they wait for him to continue, and he finds that he doesn't even need to provoke himself to do so. "city center was a lot bigger then," he says. "i had to get some permit to start trying to apprentice myself to someone, and i was coming out of town hall after i put my application in, and she was coming down the street and she was pulling this big cart behind her with a desk that someone had commissioned her father for, and i— she looked like she could use some help, but i didn't want to be rude and— well, you know, but i couldn't help staring, because she was just so... she was the most beautiful woman i'd ever seen, and she was going right on along like this was just daily work, and i just couldn't wrap my brain around it. not because she was a woman, just— _no one_ would've wanted to do that themselves, and all i could think was that i should help but i didn't want her to think that it was because i wanted to get close to her, or because i thought she was weak because she was a woman or anything."

he pauses and takes a deep breath, and still no one speaks, letting him collect himself a little before he goes on. "and then she... i mean, i was just standing there, staring at her, and she looked across the street at me and said, 'if you want to help, you can just come over here.' so i just... ran across the street and helped her pull it the rest of the way, and we got to talking as we went, and she told me about her father and i told her i was looking for work, and..."

he falls silent for a second there, because the next words he's about to say are going to make him feel very vulnerable, and he's uncomfortably aware of it in an out of body sort of way, where he knows it's not going to feel good and he's going to do it anyway, and he can't control it. "and i think that's the best evidence i've ever seen that luck just works out sometimes," he says. "like... that two people can just happen to be in the same place at the same time and it can work out just right sometimes."

"oh, mags," carey says softly, and reaches over for his hand. "bud—"

he cuts her off with a shrug, already feeling the embarrassment sinking in. "i dunno," he mumbles, looking down at his lap. carey twists their fingers together, and he clings onto her hand a little too tight, feeling suddenly like he's back on the street in town again, barry crouched in front of him and all the people walking by and watching.

"if there's anything i've learned in all these years," lucretia says quietly, "it’s that the universe hands you things, and puts opportunities in front of you, and it's completely up to you to do something with them. there's no right answer or right way to deal with things, you just... have to take what's given to you and figure out how to handle it."

magnus thinks about julia smiling at him at the end of the road, sweaty and beautiful, holding out a hand for him to shake, and him staring back at it, wondering if this was okay, if he was _allowed_ to do this, to have this, and then taking it. and he thinks about so much later, standing across from her with her hands in his again, and the sun pouring into the gazebo, and her father watching on, smiling, and—

"yeah," he says quietly. "that's probably— yeah."

carey and killian are looking at each other, kind of tenderly, and quiet, clearly thinking about something. lup's pulled her legs into barry's lap and seems to be thinking it over, too, and taako—

taako's looking at kravitz, openly, and everyone else is so absorbed in their thoughts that magnus thinks he's probably the only one seeing the emotions flicking across his face right now. kravitz is certainly aware of it, but he gives no sign, his eyes fixed on some point in the ceiling, his thumb brushing over the back of taako's hand, warm dark skin against warm dark skin.

and taako stares at him, and then says, finally, "yeah, luce, that makes a lot of sense."

and then all eyes are on taako, startled by the statement, and by his tone, and the use of lucretia's nickname, and the fact that he's addressing her at all, but taako doesn't look back at any of them. lucretia looks particularly startled, but she just blinks at him in surprise and then softly says, "thank you, taako."

taako doesn't answer, just stands up and grabs hold of kravitz's arm and announces, "we're going to bed."

"probably a good idea," lup mumbles, though she's a bit slower to move. carey and killian seem to realize how late it's gotten then, too, and they slip out the front door and head back down to the inn while everyone else is changing into pajamas and getting ready for bed.

magnus, of course, settles down last, after he does his rounds and checks on everything that needs to be checked. he lays down on the floor and stares at the ceiling, and as tired as he is, he knows that sleep won't be coming for a while. he'll pass out eventually, he's sure, but it won't be for some time.

he's feeling pensive and thoughtful and wistful anyway, filled with thoughts of julia and of his friends' romances and the moments that brought them together. he spends a long time staring into the darkness while his family slowly falls asleep, and then— much, much later, there's a shuffling from above him on the couch.

"magnus?" angus asks, quiet and sleepy. "are you awake?"

magnus doesn't have quite the energy to ponder why and how angus knew he wouldn't be asleep yet, but it's— it's fine. "yeah, ango," he says, trying to keep his voice low and soft so he won't disturb the others. "what's up?"

"is it past midnight?" angus asks.

magnus isn't quite sure, actually. it's too dark to see the clock properly, and the moonlight outside doesn't give much information, either. "uh," he says. "probably, i guess? i'm not sure, ango."

"i think it probably is," angus says. his voice is muffled and sleep-ridden, and magnus hears him shift a little. "but that's good, 'cause—" he sniffles a little, and his arm appears over magnus's head, his hand reaching down. "happy candlenights, magnus," he says.

magnus isn't quite sure what the emotion is that pierces him right then, but it grabs hold of him like a freezing chill down the spine, a realization that it's actually, finally here. "huh," he breathes, and reaches up on instinct to grab angus's hand.

"say it back so i can go to sleep," angus grumbles, squeezing magnus's hand but not letting go yet.

magnus can't help laughing, just once, and quietly, still trying not to wake anyone. "sorry, kid," he whispers. "happy candlenights."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, come talk to me in the comments or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia).
> 
> on another note, i'm currently trying to put together a taz fic exchange event devoted to trans, gnc, and wlw identities. if you're at all interested or know someone who might be, i'd urge you to fill out [this interest check](https://forms.gle/vUHsjoj4pfWQn6Ha6) and maybe pass along the word! i've also tweeted a link to the form on the twitter account for the event [here](https://twitter.com/umbrellasfest). thanks in advance and see you next week!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter: some vague discussion of suicide and suicidal ideation (nothing explicit and not from main character's pov), all running cws
> 
> things are starting to wrap up with this one!! that being said, there's still a long way for magnus to go, so hang in there. hope everyone has a great week and is staying safe, enjoy!

the first day of candlenights dawns the same as all the others before it — except that magnus finds himself actually waking up with the dawn, rather than starting awake hours before, or staying up all through the night until its arrival lets him finally slip from bed.

it's cold inside the house, and no one else has woken yet, but magnus is, if not _well_ rested, at least not exhausted. and for a moment, waking up with that chill down his spine and the distant sense of people around him and the knowledge of what day it is, he's suddenly taken by the kind of excitement he hasn't felt for a holiday since he was a child.

he lays there for a while, letting himself revel in the memory of childhood candlenights. it's a sensation that is so unfamiliar as to feel novel all over again, and he half begins to expect that he'll open his eyes to find a pile of presents underneath the spot where they've chosen to hang the wreath.

but of course, when he does open his eyes, that's not what he sees. he sees the coffee table, and from underneath it, across the room, he sees lucretia and davenport in their piles of blankets, and he sees mavis's arm hanging off the side of the couch, and in the distance, the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

but still, there's some minor level of that excitement that lingers in him. this is their first candlenights as a _family,_ and their first real candlenights celebration in faerun, and the first one with not just all seven of them, but with merle's kids, with kravitz, with angus, with carey and killian. magnus is filled with thoughts of the week-long celebrations of his youth, and the one candlenights he spent at the ipre before mission deployment. he thinks of big, warm breakfasts and massive dinner feasts, of silent prayers held before the wreath and the fireplace, and of loud, excited gift exchanges with a few dozen people crammed into a house or a dorm room.

and he can have that again — _they_ can have that again. they can have this week, this single week, to celebrate that they're together again, and they're happy and whole and safe. they can thank someone for the things that they have.

and it's with that mindset that he starts the day. it takes a while for everyone else to stir, but magnus makes himself busy early that morning with some small chores — he cleans up a little, reorganizes the laundry and various belongings that have been tossed on top of each other over the last few days. he pulls down a nicer set of dishware from one of the higher cupboards, something that was gifted to him by someone in town but that he hasn't had an excuse to use and that he honestly feels bad even having in the first place. he spends a good amount of time cleaning out the fireplace and stacking new logs in it, and by the time that's done the others are starting to wake.

angus is first, though he stays on the couch for a while and just watches silently while magnus works at the fireplace. taako appears later, but he immediately disappears into the kitchen and starts knocking around pots and pans and various ingredients — lup joins him very quickly, and the noise only increases then, which starts to wake everyone else as well.

lucretia heads outside shortly after waking and getting dressed to take a call on her stone of farspeech, and it's not long before the entire family has gathered in the den, still sleepy and mostly pajama-clad. they're all entertaining themselves in some quiet way — mostly reading, but merle is inspecting some rocks with mookie that his son found outside, and magnus has a small figure that he's putting some finishing touches on. it is perhaps the most calming, relaxing, _ordinary_ day that they've had so far.

taako ducks back into the den eventually, looking unimpressed with their appearance. "i hope you're not waiting on breakfast," he says. he's in the midst of braiding his hair, and as he finishes he pins it up on the back of his head, out of the way. "we're gonna be in there just about all day, you're on your own till dinner."

"i think we'll manage," magnus says. there's a quiet murmur of assent, and taako heads down the hall without another word, presumably to bathe and change before the kitchen gets particularly hot and intense, though the sound of lup working still drifts out into the den in his wake.

lucretia comes back and settles in with a book as well, and for a good while they all stay there, mostly unmoving. breakfast is a challenge — none of them are quite up to the task of braving a kitchen that has been currently dominated by the twins, though barry does eventually take the chance and comes back with toast and two big containers of butter and jam that they've absolutely wrecked by the time carey and killian arrive.

it's a bright day outside, and the sun eventually beckons them out for another day of running around and playing silly games. mavis, of course, chooses to remain inside on the couch with a book, despite merle's attempts to jibe her into moving. lucretia, too, holds herself back from the silliness, though she does settle herself outside on the porch to watch.

magnus gets distracted for a little at that point. there's a lot of chasing mookie and carey and killian around the yard, a lot of yelling and running and diving and falling, but eventually he looks up and sees lucretia sitting on the porch steps with a notebook in her lap and a pen in her hands, and the image is so powerful and unexpected and yet _completely_ expected that he stumbles for a second and is assaulted behind the eyes with the image of her on the steps of the starblaster, scribbling behind them while the rest of them stared out at a new, unknown plane.

he's not ready for the intensity of the image, nor the wave of emotion that follows it. luckily, the strange blend of tag and hide and seek and catch that they've invented doesn't really require him for the moment, so he pulls away from the pack and lets himself be tugged towards the porch — towards lucretia and the reason that his brain has stopped working momentarily.

"magnus," she says as he approaches, without looking up. that, too, is far too familiar.

"what are you doing?" he asks. he's not trying to be so blunt, but it's hard to temper it. a half second after it leaves his mouth, his brain curses at him for not being gentler.

but she does look up then, pushing her glasses up a little and sighing as she sets down her pen. a strange, pensive look crosses her face for a second, and then she smiles softly. "i missed writing," she admits, quietly. "i haven't done it properly in a long time."

magnus slowly lowers himself down to the steps next to her. "you weren't— i mean, during all that time?"

"some," lucretia says. "enough to be sure that if i needed to erase something, it would be within reach. but i had to be fairly active for a good amount of that time. there were several years where i was on the ground myself, and then with the startup of the bureau i was very busy for a good while. it was hard to... find time to write about things that weren't _necessary._ "

"oh." magnus pulls his feet up a step and rests his arms on his knees. "so then— what, it's not necessary now?"

"it hasn't been necessary for a long time," lucretia murmurs. she brushes her fingers over the page, and magnus tries very diligently not to look too hard at the words underneath, keeping it in his periphery as best he can.

"but you always... i mean, you liked it," magnus says. "it wasn't just a job. and you wrote— like, you wrote a lot. that can't all have been necessary."

"that becomes harder to judge over time," lucretia says dryly. she finally closes her notebook and sets it to the side. "in the beginning, everything seemed necessary. we didn't know where we were, or why, and we had only the barest understanding of _how._ anything could be the clue to... to getting home. or stopping this beast that took that home from us. but over time, the more cycles that passed, of course i started to realize that i perhaps didn't need to be quite so diligent. there was some small room for omission."

"but i haven't seen you writing since..." magnus thinks hard about it for a moment. "i mean, at least since you got here."

lucretia looks down to her side, and gently brushes her fingers over the front of her notebook. "well, i... i try to approach it differently now. i think a hundred years of writing solely to preserve our own memories, our own histories... it may have taken a bit of the joy out of it. but i— i recently received some advice that made me rethink that strategy."

magnus doesn't want to prod too much but... this is the first real, good conversation that he's had with lucretia since everyone arrived. "yeah?" he says quietly.

lucretia seems to think it over for a second, and then finally she says, "i've been talking to someone, over the last few months."

magnus's brain trips over that for a second. "you— like... a girl?"

lucretia laughs at that, sudden and louder than he expected. "well," she says, a trace of that laughter lingering, "yes, she's a woman, but not like that, no. more... someone to help me get back on my feet. or rather, someone to help me remember where my feet are, and where they were before the last hundred and fifteen years or so."

"uh," magnus says. "i don't get it."

lucretia sighs, and suddenly she leans over and rests her head against magnus's shoulder, which is surprising but certainly not unwelcome. he stays very still, though he would rather wrap an arm around her and pull her close.

"i don't always deal with things in the best way," lucretia says, and her voice is very soft. she's staring out at the rest of their family as they sprint and laugh their way across magnus's yard. "i blame myself and the universe in equal measure for all the bad things that happen, but always... always just a bit too much. in the last few years, since... since everything, with lup, and with the three of you, and now with taako... it's gotten harder to deal with. and i need to be someone who people can rely upon. i need to be a leader. i can't shut myself away with a notebook and let someone else take care of it anymore. i haven't been able to do that in a long time, and i— i thought i could use some help. to deal with... all of this."

"and there's... people for that?" magnus asks. he's stumbling a little, trying not to come off the wrong way, trying not to question it and make her feel bad. he just... he doesn't _get_ it. he didn't even know that was a thing.

"if you can believe it," lucretia says, a little dry, a little sarcastic, "this world has an uncountable number of people who have suffered years of trauma, and now have a rather strong desire to overcome that and move forward. as a result, a fairly decent sized profession has sprung up to fill that market."

"huh," magnus says.

"in any case," lucretia goes on, "i've started... seeing someone, on a semi regular basis. it's hard to make the time in my schedule, but... at our last meeting, she suggested i take up writing again, but that i... well, i try to take back ownership of it. and that i use it as a way to remind myself of some of the nicer things in the world that i don't always remember as well."

"what do you mean?" magnus asks. he does put his arm around her now, because he knows he's pushing a little farther than she probably intended, and he wants her to feel safe, and comfortable, and he wants her to know that he's _here_ for her. he's not just trying to probe for no reason.

lucretia leans into his embrace, only just enough for him to notice. "can you remember the last time you were happy?" she asks.

"i guess right now?" magnus suggests. "i mean, today. it's candlenights."

"and what about before that?" lucretia says. "in the last week. in the last month, when is the last distinct memory you have of being happy?"

"um," magnus says, and then falls silent, because— well, there has to be a moment, doesn't there? he can remember times he was happy, sure, but they're mostly months or years in the past. carey and killian's wedding, his own wedding, the day of his acceptance onto the starblaster team, but... when she puts that time frame on it, it becomes harder.

"exactly," lucretia says in response to his silence. "and yet we can recall with perfect clarity what happened yesterday that upset us, or what happened earlier today. certainly there was a moment yesterday or the day before that made us happy, but what was it? when was it? what about that moment made us happy?" she shifts a little then, and coughs quietly, embarrassed. "but, ah, that's— well. the point is, i was advised to try to keep a log of things that do make me happy. i've been... well, rather stressed, during this trip. but i was watching everyone out in the yard, and i didn't... feel that way. so i thought i should write it down."

"huh," magnus murmurs. he leans his head on top of lucretia's, her hair soft against his cheek. "well, that's— i mean, i hope it helps, luce, but it doesn't make me feel, like, super happy to know you've been so stressed out."

"that's not your fault," lucretia says gently. she reaches across his lap to take his other hand, and squeezes his fingers. "magnus, genuinely, i think everyone here would thank you for bringing us all here for this. i don't think any of us knew what our family would look like after all that's happened, and this has helped to define that a little better. it's not _being here_ that's causing me stress, i just—"

she falls silent then, just for a moment, and heaves a long, gentle sigh. "it's hard to face blame and admit wrongdoing without shouldering the burden of it so much that you start to blame yourself for everything," she says. "i needed to confront it at some point, i just... i'm struggling to find a balance between apologizing in a meaningful way and prostrating myself in servitude. you've seen that."

"taako just—" magnus starts to say, and then stops, because she tenses, probably having been trying to avoid actually blaming that particular party at all. he remembers suddenly his conversation with taako, about blame and overreaction and isolation, and he wonders how much of that lucretia would be able to relate to.

"the problem," lucretia says, "is that everyone's first instinct is to tell me that it wasn't my fault. the fact is, it was. a very large portion of what happened is directly my fault. i'm fortunate enough to have been given a chance to help rebuild what fell because of me, or because of us, and that has become my main focus for the last few months. but unfortunately, it's not as simple to fix a broken relationship as it is to fix a building that's fallen down."

"it's not broken yet," magnus says, and squeezes her shoulder. "it really isn't. okay? i promise. it's just— messy."

"a mess that i caused," lucretia murmurs. "even if i'm not the direct cause of what happened to this world, i am the direct cause of the problems in our family now."

"you—"

"please don't tell me it wasn't my fault," lucretia says, cutting him off. "i know you mean well, magnus, but it doesn't help. i can't place blame for this on anyone else. everything that's happened to our family in the last ten years is unquestionably my responsibility. none of you would have gone through the things you did if i hadn't made certain decisions. that is my fault. it would be a disservice to all of you for me to try to pretend i didn't hurt you."

"but that's not _true,_ " magnus argues, looking down at her. "i made my own decisions. merle made his own decisions. taako— taako's a special case, but—"

"but lup spent a decade trapped in an umbrella, alone," lucretia says. she turns her head into his chest a little, seeking comfort even when she says she doesn't deserve it. "barry spent those years chasing her, and chasing me, and all three of you. you can't tell me that taako would have gone through _any_ of the things he went through if he'd had his memories, because he would have never turned his attention from finding lup, and he wouldn't have been _alone._ and that doesn't even begin to touch on what i did to davenport. you can argue that your life was your own and you had your own problems and your own decisions, but you can't make that argument for the others when it's _unquestionable_ that i am the reason for every horrible thing that happened to them in the last decade."

she reaches the end of her speech and takes a deep, shaky breath before pulling away a little. she hastily wipes below her eyes, and magnus pretends he doesn't see, though he doesn't pull his arm away from her shoulders either. after a moment, lucretia says quietly, "and the fact is, magnus, if we had all been together, whether julia was a part of your life or not, she wouldn't have died. we would never have let that happen."

magnus— magnus feels a chill set into his skin, and his bones, and his nerves and all his blood. he quite literally freezes, his whole body tensing, and lucretia feels it, his hand tightening on her arm. she won't look at him, turning her head away obstinately while she very gently pats her face back into normalcy, hiding the emotion there.

magnus should say something to that. he should tell her it's not true, but he's swept up again in the thought of julia, and his family, and all of them together. it's _candlenights,_ they could all be together right now, she could be cuddled up on his other side, they could all be sitting around laughing, and telling jokes and old stories. he could have her with him, they could be happy and together and she could slot into his life now and their family as it is, and she could fit _perfectly._

lucretia glances over at him, like she's still waiting for him to say something, but he has nothing. if she realizes how far gone he is from their discussion, she doesn't acknowledge it, just ducks her head and pulls away from him for real. his arm slips from her shoulders, and she rubs her arms like she's cold. "i'm going to go for a walk," she murmurs. "i'll be back later."

magnus can't even make a noise of acknowledgement. lucretia stands up and looks back at him, but when he doesn't respond, she just sighs quietly and steps away, turning down the road and disappearing from sight.

magnus should go after her. he shouldn't let her wander alone like that. she's strong enough to protect herself, that's not the problem, but— he shouldn't let her deal with this on her own. it isn't her fault, it really isn't. any of them could have realized her plan earlier, they just weren't looking for it, too caught up in lup missing and the world below them falling apart. she did what she thought was right, she did what she _had_ to, and it broke bad for some of them, but isn't it better that it broke bad for _them_ than for the rest of the world?

and magnus's silence will only reinforce her fears; she'll see it as a taciturn agreement that if she had just left well enough alone, then julia would be alive, and magnus's life would be better.

he can't deny that there's a part of him that thinks that might be true — that julia's presence in his life now would make him a little more whole. but that doesn't make it lucretia's _fault._ who knows if julia would still be alive, there's too many factors involved in that, there's too much fighting and—

his head spins and he has to double over, pressing hard at his forehead as his thoughts twist around and worm away from him, out of his control. he has to force a long breath in and then out, and there's suddenly a cool touch to the back of his neck that has him jerking away in shock.

"relax, bud," taako says. "you good there?"

magnus tries again to breathe, and only halfway succeeds. "um," he manages.

taako is quiet for a moment, and then grabs magnus by the collar and tugs a little. "come inside," he says. "need someone to stand still and stir for like an hour. think you can handle that?"

magnus finally regains some autonomy and straightens a little, glancing up at their family out in the yard, running around throwing a makeshift ball that used to be one of magnus's woodworking projects. kravitz and barry have stepped to the side into some sort of referee role while the others tackle each other and laugh and roll around in the dirt.

"they'll be fine," taako says, like he can read his mind — which was not actually a part of his skillset, last that magnus checked. he tugs on magnus's coat again. "come on, bud, let's go."

* * *

it's still early in the day, but the kitchen is already a hectic myriad of smells and sounds. when taako drags magnus inside, lup is in the midst of masterfully minding half a dozen pots and tasks, darting back and forth while she directs a mage hand through a handful of dishes behind her.

"oh good," she says, glancing up from dicing a cutting board full of some herb magnus doesn't recognize. "nice sturdy arm. get to stirring, bub."

she points imperiously at a pot on the stove currently being minded by her mage hand, but she pulls the hand away and directs it to another task while taako shoves magnus into place and puts the spoon in his hand. he goes to stirring, letting taako direct the speed until he's decided that magnus can be trusted on his own.

before he steps away, though, taako shoves a finger in magnus's face and says, "if you let that burn, i will never forgive you, do you understand? this entire dinner is depending on this sauce, do _not_ fuck it up."

magnus still hasn't fully recovered from whatever weird episode came over him on the porch outside, so he just nods and elbows taako away.

after that, magnus gets to witness something that very few people in the universe have been fortunate to see even once in their lives. the twins are masters in the kitchen, he knows that, everyone knows that — but to see it up close and get to be a fly on the wall while they work is something truly special.

they move around each other like it's been choreographed, speaking half in common and half in elvish and another layered hidden half in hand gestures and cut-off sentences that the other responds to like it makes perfect sense. there is a sense of comfort and familiarity here that magnus doesn't think he's ever felt or ever will. he can't imagine the kind of life and the kind of practice it would take to get to this level of coordination and comfort with another person, which stands as a testament to how hard the twins have worked together to reach it.

lup does most of the knife work and measuring, leaving taako to carefully and precisely combine ingredients, baste, and taste, all while minding the stove and oven. it's moved beyond hot in the kitchen and progressed well into sweltering and unbearable, but the twins don't miss a step, passing a glass of water between them that never seems to empty completely.

magnus stands at the stove and continues to stir, stopping only when taako or lup slides up next to him to dip a spoon or finger into the pot and taste. at one point, he has both of them on either side of him, leaning around him to taste, and they glance at each other around his body. "did you forget what salt tastes like in that damn umbrella?" taako asks. "were you gonna try to blow us all out of our brains with all that?"

lup responds to his sass with a deadpan stare. "it needs a heavy hand," she argues. "just because you prefer it—"

"it's not about preference," taako says, rolling his eyes and stepping away to return to the makeshift grill top he's cooking vegetables on. "it's about whether you can fucking taste anything but salt in there."

"it highlights flavor!" lup snaps as she steps away as well. magnus has half a second to think that he kind of misses having their warmth pressed tight up against him, even as the kitchen swells hotter and hotter, but then lup is back, tipping just a bit more tomato juice into the pot to balance the salt content while taako isn't looking. she rolls her eyes where only magnus can see before she turns away and goes back to her own work.

they do eventually kick him out of the kitchen, once they're both satisfied with the product he's been mindlessly tending. taako swipes his pinky finger through it and _hmphs._ "fine," he grumbles to lup as he knocks magnus's hand away from the spoon and pulls the pot from the heat. "you win this time."

lup winks at magnus while taako's back is turned and then shoves him out the door and into the living room.

the rest of the family has slowly started to straggle back in, and it doesn't take long to figure out why — the sky has grown gray and dull outside, and there are halfhearted snowflakes starting to descend to the ground. it's not hard or fast enough to be exciting, and most of it is turning to mush shortly after it hits the ground, so it's sent angus and barry and kravitz and davenport back to the safety of the house. lucretia has returned, too, though she's set up on the porch outside still, notebook open her lap again.

the living room is awfully quiet though, as its inhabitants have all lost themselves each in a book, and magnus doesn't want to disturb that, so he heads back outside. lucretia glances up at him when he steps onto the porch, but looks back down quickly and says nothing. magnus wants so badly to reach out and say something, but he has no idea where to start or what to say, so he just heads out across the lawn.

merle and mookie are wrestling on the ground as the dirt slowly turns to mud around them, though neither father nor son seems to mind much, both of them laughing and grunting and trying to gain advantage over the other. mookie seems to be holding his own fairly well — he's a bit more slender like his sister, but there's something in his build that leans a bit more towards his father's sturdiness.

carey and killian are standing off to the side, under the oak tree, killian adjusting carey's coat and the two of them standing awfully close. carey has her back to the house, but when killian sees magnus step out onto the porch she gives carey's coat a little tug and murmurs something that magnus couldn't hear if he tried. carey tenses a little and starts to turn, but killian tugs at her again and says something else. the two have a quiet but slightly tense exchange before killian gives carey a pat on the shoulder and leans in to kiss her cheek, and then she steps away and heads in magnus's direction, leaving carey standing a bit forlornly under the tree.

"hey," killian says as she steps up onto the porch. "dinner ready yet?"

"uh," magnus says. "not yet. everything okay?"

"peachy, bud," killian says. she elbows him in the side as she steps past him toward the door. "you should really be wearing a coat out here."

magnus shrugs, and killian steps inside, leaving just him and lucretia on the porch, and lucretia has nothing to offer to that conversation.

carey is still standing out in the yard under the tree, her head tipped down a little. she doesn't move as magnus approaches, but she does go easily when he reaches her and grabs her by the arm, pulling her in for a hug.

"hey," he murmurs against the side of her head. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," carey mumbles into his shoulder. "i don't know. don't worry about it."

"you're my best friend, care," magnus says. "i have to worry."

carey sighs and steps back, but she lets her hand slide down his arm to take his hand and then sits heavily down among the tree's roots. "k and i just don't always agree about stuff," she says. "it's dumb." she pulls on his hand so he'll follow her down.

he lets himself go, settling cross legged in front of her and reaching to hold her hand with both of his. "if you were expecting marriage to be all happiness and joy..."

"it's not that," carey says. "i— it's our first candlenights together, me and her. i mean, like, as a married couple. and i'm really glad we're here, okay? so don't start trying to find ways to blame yourself for this or i'll notch the handles of all your axes. i just— i feel like i should be focusing on her more, and i feel like she's not being honest with me when she says she doesn't care about it."

"you guys are all over each other," magnus says. "like... all you do is cuddle and stuff. what else are you supposed to be doing?"

carey shrugs. "i dunno. just... got some stuff on my mind."

"okay..." magnus says slowly. "you wanna share? exercising best friend rights here, so you gotta tell me."

carey snorts, then looks away and shrugs again. with her free hand, she starts tracing patterns in the damp ground. "i don't wanna put this shit on you," she says.

"i think i can handle it," magnus says, "especially if it's gonna help you to talk it out."

carey lets out a long, slow breath, and says, "that's the problem, mags."

magnus frowns. "what is?"

"you," carey says. "fuck. i don't mean— _you're_ not the problem, you just— fuck. like, you're not doing _great,_ right? and i'm worried about you, and it's like— i'm thinking about it a lot, because you're my best friend, and i wanna help you, and i feel like i'm worrying about it too much, and i'm not giving k all the attention she deserves or whatever, and when i try to tell her that she says it's not a big deal, but i feel like she's not being honest and i don't want her to think that i'm more focused on you than i am on her, i just wanna help you but i don't want her to... fuck."

the cold in the ground has started to seep through magnus's pants, and he's starting to think that killian was right about the coat thing, because there's suddenly a chill all through his body, just like before on the porch. "oh," he says.

"this is why i didn't wanna say anything," carey says. "stop, okay? whatever you're thinking right now, cut it out."

"i'm not thinking anything," magnus says, and it's actually true, because his mind feels blank and staticky like fisher's interference but— not.

carey ignores him and just keeps going. "it's not your fault," she says. "you aren't doing anything wrong. you've just got shit going on and let's just skip the part where you pretend that everything's fine because we both know that's bullshit. the point is it's not your fault if i've got other shit going on in my head, i just— i have to figure out how to balance being there for you and being with her, and like... i've never had two relationships i care about that much at the same time, and i don't wanna lean into one so much that i fuck up the other one."

"but i'm—" magnus starts to say, and then cuts off when carey looks up and fixes him with a furious glare that _dares_ him to finish that sentence with the word _fine._ he takes a moment and then says instead, "you really don't need to worry about me."

"like i said, mags," carey says. "that's bullshit."

frustration and something like fear claw at magnus's insides, and the cold grips him tight from the outside. "it's _not,_ " he says. "you don't need to deal with all my shit, i can handle myself."

"fucking hell, mags," carey spits. "will you give it up? no, you fucking can't. you know how much easier this would be if i didn't feel like i need to walk on fucking eggshells around you? you can just fucking admit that you're not _okay._ it's normal! we don't know a single person who's okay! it'd be weirder if you _were,_ but you insist on this weird shit where you pretend nothing is going on so no one can even _try_ to help!"

"i don't want help," magnus says. his voice is level and stable in ways he thinks it shouldn't be given the situation, but he feels— well, as calm as ever. frustrated to be sure, but none of the panic of some of these conversations.

"well that fucking sucks," carey says. her eyes are stony and icy and furious, angry in a way that magnus doesn't think he's ever seen in her. "i don't know what you think about all of us, about _me,_ if you think i'd really let you just fucking suffer on your own until this goes away, which it _won't,_ because that's not how any of that works!"

"i'm not—"

carey bowls right over him, not to be stopped by any force or object in the world. "you had horrible shit happen to you!" she says. she's twisted her hand in his now, gripping his wrist tight enough to hurt and maybe even bruise. "you had _horrible_ shit happen to you, you lost so much, and you were hurt so much, and you've spent so long trying to help people and be a good person, and you got _really_ fucking hurt anyways, and you're not fucking okay. you have nightmares and flashbacks and you keep scaring the shit out of me. i feel like every time i look away you're just standing there staring into space, and i don't— i don't know what to fucking do anymore, mags. i just wanna fucking help, but i can't hover behind you and wait for you to fall so i can pick you back up. you've gotta fucking let me in."

magnus stares down at their hands, wrapped around each other in carey's lap.

"please talk to me," carey begs, leaning forward a little. "magnus. please. you're not okay. you're hurting, and it scares me so bad. i don't wanna go home after the holiday and not hear from you for a week and find out that— fuck, maggie, i can't even say it, but that's the kind of shit you're making me think about. i can't let you keep living like this, you're my best friend. i'm doing everything i can but i— i can't be here all the time, and you have no idea how scared i am to _not_ be around if something happens. at least right now you've got taako and merle and everyone but... what about in a week, when everyone goes home? then what?"

magnus flinches and looks away quickly, but carey grabs his arm with her other hand, trying to pull his gaze back. "i don't know," he mumbles.

and he doesn't. what _does_ happen in a week? he sleeps a little better now that he has everyone around, but is he going to go back to the silence? is he going to go back to not hearing from everyone or anyone, to prowling around his own home waiting for an attack and _missing_ everyone so bad that it hurts?

"this is why we've gotta talk about it," carey whispers, squeezing his arm. "please, magnus. just... just talk to me. tell me when it's getting bad, let me _in._ i wanna help you, i wanna be here for you. i'm not expecting you to jump up and be back to— fucking, i don't know, i don't know what the baseline is anymore. i just wanna help. i can't watch you keep hurting like this and feeling like there's fucking nothing i can do because you keep shutting everyone out. and it's not just me, you know that, right? everyone's worried about you."

"i don't want that," magnus whispers back. "i don't want them to— i'm supposed to protect them."

"no, you fucking _aren't,_ " carey says. they're sitting so close now, their knees are touching and carey is leaning far into his space. "in a fucking _battle,_ maybe. when there are weapons drawn, okay, sure. that's what you're good at. but no one's fucking fighting right now, mags. we're just having candlenights. who are you protecting?"

"everyone," magnus says. "you, killian, taako—"

"protecting us from _what?_ " carey asks. "no one's attacking us, magnus. we're fine. you're fine. everything is fine, except that you're scaring the shit out of everyone and we just wanna help. if you don't wanna talk to me, then i guess... fine. but talk to _someone._ talk to taako, or the director, or merle, but talk to _someone._ i'm begging you, because i can't keep watching this. i can't keep letting you hurt yourself like this."

"i don't even know what i'm supposed to _say,_ " magnus says.

"we don't have to talk right now," carey says. "i just— i can't watch this keep happening. i love you so much, dude, i— you have no idea. you're my best friend. please don't make me scared to go home and leave you alone."

"i wouldn't," magnus whispers, a little shaky but urgent, because he can't let carey think that. "i _wouldn't._ "

carey loosens her grip on his arm a little and slides her hold down so that she has his hands in hers now. "maybe not on purpose," she says quietly, softer, sadder. "but you're the kind of guy who runs into burning buildings and jumps off cliffs and leaps into battle with no weapons, and that— it all kind of leads to the same thing, mags."

he doesn't have an answer for that.

she squeezes his hands once, and then lets go with her right hand and reaches up to grab him by the back of the neck and pull him in so she can rest their foreheads together. "i know what it's like," she murmurs, "thinking that other people are worth more than you. but you can't trade _you_ for that. please. promise me you'll at least think about what i'm saying."

"i promise," he whispers, because she's his best friend, and he would give her anything, and he would do anything for her.

"i mean it," she says, a little louder, a little rougher, like there's something caught in her throat. "don't say it just to make me feel better right now. i mean _think_ about it. i mean that the next time you start to feel like that, you say something to someone."

he takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes, and leans into the warmth of her forehead against his. "okay," he says. "i— i'll think about it."

she breathes a hefty sigh that lingers against his cheeks. "okay," she says back. "i love you, mags."

"i love you, too," he says back.

the air around them only gets colder, but magnus doesn't feel it so much with carey nearby.

* * *

dinner is ready at exactly five, by some kind of magic. for the last hour before it's ready, lup and taako keep the door to the kitchen shut tight and there is very little sound that drifts out to the den from inside. then, twenty minutes before it's due to be ready, lup appears from the kitchen and heads straight to the guest room, pulling her hair down from the sweaty, clumped bun tied at the crown of her head. ten minutes later, she reappears, dressed in a clean, sleek robe over a simple but beautifully embroidered dress, and when she slips back into the kitchen, taako takes his turn to scrub the day's work from his face and reset himself for the holiday dinner.

kravitz and davenport set the table in an elaborate way with utensils that magnus didn't even know he owned — there is an excessive number of spoons and glasses, and it all looks very nice, but magnus takes one look at the hungry and anxious crowd gathering at the kitchen door (at mookie and killian and merle in particular) and knows that this perfect setup is about to be demolished in a few minutes.

taako reappears just as everything's being finished, hair braided and pinned up out of the way, glamour refreshed. he's dressed similarly to lup, dress robe over clean, simple clothes, but he's got a nice waistcoat done up over his shirt and skirt, and when kravitz sees him, he gives him a single look and then snags him by the wrist as he walks by to pull him in for a soft but lingering kiss that magnus can't watch for very long.

everyone else decides around that time that maybe they should be dressed a little nicer, so magnus ducks into the bedroom and changes, too. he doesn't have much finery, but he pulls on the pair of pants with the least number of patches and his newest shirt, and slides on some extra rings, with mostly inert magical effects. he keeps his left hand free except for his wedding ring.

he stops in the bathroom to wash up quickly before he heads back out, and pauses for a second to try to tug his hair into something a little more arranged. the light in the room catches on his rings, and he straightens slowly and looks down at his hand. for a moment, he could almost swear he feels a touch at his waist, but he refuses to let himself lean into that thought.

"you'd really like this," he whispers, unbidden. he stares at his hand, twisting it back and forth and watching the light travel the edge of his ring, around and around in circles.

"being here with everyone," he goes on, keeping his voice low so that no one walking by will hear him and so his voice won't break. "big family dinner. your dad'd like it, too. everyone sitting around at a handmade table with a huge, hand cooked meal."

he has to stop, feeling something rise in his throat, and he clenches his hand into a fist and presses it to his chest, because it feels like the right thing to do.

"i'm sorry," he whispers to no one and nothing. she can't hear him. no one can hear him right now, except himself and whatever god chooses to listen. "you should be here," he whispers. "i'll never pay that back. i'm sorry."

she doesn't answer him.

he swallows down the growing rock in his throat and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself, and then turns and heads back out.

* * *

"all right, but make it quick, everything's getting cold," taako snaps, sliding a massive plate with a ham the size of mookie into the center of the table and then settling heavily into his chair. he holds a hand out toward kravitz on his left, a put out expression on his face, and kravitz takes it with a private little smile.

davenport settles his elbows on the tabletop, sitting at the table's head. magnus has no idea where they found the tablecloth that they've spread out under the food, but it's clean and it makes all the food somehow look even more tempting. he exchanges a sad look with carey as she reaches for his hand.

as one, they all bow their heads. magnus doesn't know who to pray to, or what to pray for, or anything like that, so he just keeps his head ducked. the moment drags out, though, and he can hear davenport murmuring quietly to himself, and next to davenport, he can hear barry, too, even quieter.

he dares to risk opening an eye and glances up — taako and lup are elbowing each other, eyes open and blatantly fighting over who's getting the first slice of the ham. kravitz on taako's other side has his head bowed but is shaking quietly with suppressed laughter. mookie is watching all of this with wide eyes, holding his father's hand on one side and his sister's on the other.

finally, davenport raises his head and lets go of lucretia's hand on his left and barry's on his right. he shoots taako and lup a weary look, but neither of them are paying attention, having resorted to half-hearted slaps and punches in the arm. "all right," davenport says loudly, though it doesn't disturb the twin's bickering, "i think it's time to eat."

"fucking _finally,_ " taako says, and dives for the ham. he's a half second too late, though, and lup has stabbed a large midsection of the pig and slammed it onto her plate before taako can even get a hand on the platter.

"fuck!" taako swears, and then the table dissolves into chaos as everyone reaches at once for utensils and plates and bowls. a cacophony erupts from all of them, and lingers for a while as they fill their plates. kravitz stands up and fills wine glasses — and there's enough of them and they're drinking fast enough that they've somehow managed to clear two bottles before everyone's even been served all their food.

and then, just as quickly as the noise came, everyone goes quiet as they begin eating. unsurprisingly, it's a feast fit for royalty — everything is seasoned and cooked to absolute perfection, not a pinch too much salt or too little anywhere. merle mumbles, "damn," under his breath, and the sentiment is echoed around the table with the responding silence.

barry leans over to lup and presses a light kiss to her cheek. "you're amazing," he whispers, and lup shoots him a bright grin in response, though there is a little blush across her cheeks at the display of affection.

"wasn't just her," taako points out, and lup kicks him under the table. kravitz smiles and pats taako's arm with his free hand.

it's not the kind of candlenights dinner that magnus remembers from childhood — a big gathering of people scattered through a house that belonged to some family member he didn't really know, clambering to line up in front of a buffet table and load plates high with decent but certainly not mind-blowing piles of food. those were loud and clamorous occasions and magnus always felt a little out of place, a little uncertain and uncomfortable, but it built him into who he became, taught him to talk louder and walk bolder and stand taller.

there was only one candlenights celebration at the ipre, before the mission, and magnus doesn't remember much of that one. he spent most of his time drinking and laughing and elbowing people, and he woke up the next morning in barry's bed, and barry on the floor snoring into a pillow.

candlenights on the starblaster was usually solemn, if they even remembered to celebrate. time passed differently on every plane, and there was no calendar to judge by in half the universes they landed. the only way they could judge time was by the counting of days and nights, and the distance from them to the light. when they did celebrate, it was quiet and comfortable and familiar, and some years it was loud and boisterous and celebratory, but most of the time they just crowded around a table and ate chicken or ham or something from that universe's diet that lup and taako somehow managed to turn into a more exciting meal.

and of course there was candlenights last year, on the moonbase, and that was good. that was nice. they were surrounded by people they loved and who loved them, even if they didn't really know it, but even without lucas and the lab and the ensuing chaos, it hurts now, to think of lup and barry so far away, and davenport not himself, and none of them _remembering._ it hurts to think of lucretia watching that celebration, and watching them, and having to hold herself aloof and apart and away from the rest of them, and then, of course, lucas ruined everything anyway.

candlenights with julia and steven was another matter altogether. dinner was quiet and humble — steven was no cook, and julia and magnus were poor help in the kitchen, and he ended up chasing them out more often than not. steven would pray over their food then, always to an unnamed deity and more out of thanks for keeping the three of them together for another year, and magnus would hold julia's hand tight, and tighter every year, until the year their rings pressed together when he did. and then never again.

carey elbows him gently, and he starts a little, realizing that he's gone still and his plate is only half empty. she shoots him a look, questioning more than concerned, and magnus takes a deep breath and just shakes his head at her. she drops her eyes back to her plate, but with her left hand she reaches down under the table and squeezes his knee.

conversation starts back up slowly as people empty their plates. mookie gets into an animated discussion with killian across the length of the table that has him spitting food back onto his plate as he talks through mouthfuls, the rest of the table alternately laughing and wincing, but soon a comfortable hum of chatter settles over them.

eventually, it comes time to clean up. kravitz stands up and starts to stack plates, but taako grabs him by the arm and tugs him back into his seat. "nope," he says, and scoots his chair closer to kravitz so he can tuck himself under an arm and snuggle up there. "if you helped cook _or_ set the table you're exempt from dishes."

"i've never heard that particular rule before," kravitz says, but he's smiling and content, and he lets taako squish him into a more comfortable position to lay against. the long day of work has clearly taken its toll on the twins, who are both looking sleepy and full and worn out now.

"my rules rule, babe," taako says, and leans his head on kravitz's shoulder, settling the matter.

and that's how magnus ends up on the floor again, sitting around and half praying for the safety of his dishware while the collective of his family attempts to put his kitchen back together. taako is half in kravitz's lap now, looking much like a satisfied and exhausted cat, eyes closed with his head tucked under kravitz's chin, while lup lounges next to them, feet on the coffee table as she paints her toenails.

davenport is settled in magnus's armchair with a notebook, and magnus is half burning with the desire to ask him if he's writing the same things lucretia is, but he holds himself back and picks up one of his whittling projects and sets back to work.

"happy anniversary, babe," taako mumbles, a little louder than maybe intended, and magnus looks up just in time to see the little smile that spreads across lup's face before she turns her attention back to her nails.

kravitz scratches lightly at the hair at the base of taako's skull. "i didn't think that was until spring," he murmurs, soft and gentle.

"we met on candlenights," taako says. "'member? lucas's lab. stupid idiot's good for something, i guess."

kravitz's eyes grow a little distant, and then he smiles and tucks a kiss into taako's hair, closing his eyes and smiling against the pile of glamoured gold against his mouth. "it seems you're right," he says. "happy anniversary, love."

"gross," lup says, if only to pull attention away from the accidentally intimate moment. taako swipes half-heartedly in her direction with one hand, but lup barely even has to try to dodge it. she pops the nail polish brush back into the bottle and leans back against the couch, then waves in magnus's direction. "all right, big guy, your turn."

magnus scoots over and spreads his hands out on the coffee table, letting lup work her other kind of magic and watching contemplatively. "you're more of a red," lup apologizes, "but blue's better for the season."

eventually, the rest of the family starts to trail out of the kitchen, though most of them seem to have been banished out by barry, who has become something of an expert at washing dishes in the last century, and killian, who is working as some sort of bouncer, flashing past the door to the kitchen at intervals as she darts piles of plates and bowls and armfuls of silverware to their homes and glares at anyone who tries to slip into the kitchen.

"no dessert tonight?" merle tries hopefully as he settles in on the floor.

taako groans loudly, and lup rolls her eyes. "dinner wasn't enough for you, old man?" she asks, and menacingly points the nail polish brush in his direction. "are you trying to work us into the ground? wait till tomorrow, dinner'll be smaller and you'll actually have room."

"i think i could make it fit," merle grumbles.

at that point, mookie flops into his father's lap and stares up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "presents tonight?" he begs.

taako groans again, eyes still closed, and kravitz rolls his own, good natured.

"i think we'll kill taako if we make anyone do anything else tonight, mook," merle says apologetically, patting his son's head. "tomorrow, 'kay?"

"the longer we can push it off the better," magnus suggests, a bit bashful.

"only because you did absolutely no shopping yesterday," carey says, kicking him lightly in the hip as she passes him to find a spot on the floor as well. the rest of the family slowly joins them, until everyone is flopped down in a hectic arrangement of limbs and heads and torsos flung across each other.

at about that point, lucretia gets up suddenly and heads for the door, though everyone is so absorbed in their conversations and distracted by the heavy feeling of food in their stomachs that no one seems to notice — except magnus.

she has her notebook in her hands, and magnus thinks suddenly of their conversation earlier and feels a little flush of guilt low in his stomach. lup has finished with his nails by now and has moved onto the next closest victim. this just so happens to be taako, who luckily probably doesn't have any protests, but this means that magnus is free to slowly climb to his feet and follow lucretia outside.

by the time he reaches her, she's settled back on the porch steps, notebook open in her lap and pen darting across the page. she doesn't seem to notice when the door swings open behind her, so magnus politely clears his throat before he approaches.

she still jumps slightly, but she calms a little when she looks up and sees magnus there. "oh," she murmurs, patting at her chest, an embarrassed flush across her cheeks.

"hey," magnus says, and lowers himself to sit on the step next to her. "you okay?"

lucretia looks away and focuses down on the page in front of her, slowly lowering her pen and then closing the notebook — whether because she's taking a break from writing or just to hide her words from him, he doesn't know. "yes," she says finally. "i think so."

he doesn't mean to mirror their conversation from earlier, but he reaches out anyway, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. it reminds him suddenly of nights on the starblaster, in the early years, when none of them knew each other very well but magnus knew that she was human and the closest to his age and the one he probably felt most comfortable around. she used to come to his room, for the first ten years or so, and sit at the foot of his bed and write her reports, while magnus sat to the side and polished the handles of his weapons and sharpened their blades and kept quiet so as not to disturb her.

as the years passed, they naturally grew closer as a team, and lucretia spent as much time with taako or barry or any of the others as she did with magnus, but there were times, still, where she would come to him — usually late at night, with a notebook clutched tight to her chest. how she knew he would be awake, he still doesn't know, but she would ask quietly to come in, and he would flip the light on and step to the side, and she would sit at the foot of his bed like she used to, and magnus would slide up next to her and put an arm around her shoulder until she stopped writing and told him stories she had heard from that universe's inhabitants, or little facts that she had gleaned from studying old, ancient texts, buried under ruins they'd explored the week before.

now, on the front porch of magnus's house in raven's roost, in faerun, a half century and a necessary betrayal later, lucretia leans her head against his shoulder for the second time that day, and she feels so much smaller and weaker next to him than she looks, than she puts out for the world to see. magnus leans his cheek against the top of her head and rubs her arm.

"i'm sorry," he says after a while, when the chill has started to set in despite their closeness and the way lucretia warms him against his side.

she shifts a little, pulling her notebook up to her chest like she's a hundred years younger again, their first few cycles on the starblaster. "sorry for what?" she asks.

"earlier," he says. "when you— i shouldn't have let you walk away like that."

"magnus," she says. "unless you grabbed me and forced me back down, you probably wouldn't have stopped me. i needed some time to myself."

magnus lets a frustrated little noise bubble up and lifts his head. the sky is only partially clouded now, and he can see the moon and a fistful of stars above them. it's hardly the perfect candlenights sky, but it still fits, somehow. "but i shouldn't let you think that what you said was true," he says.

lucretia is quiet for a moment, taking that in, and then says, "and what part was wrong, exactly?"

"you couldn't have controlled— julia," magnus says. "my life. what happened before we came back. i— you're right, things changed because of everything that happened, yeah, but... i don't think it's fair to say that any of us could have controlled everything. if lup had been around, or if taako and barry hadn't been together when it happened, or if you— i don't know. there's a billion different things that happened, and you couldn't have controlled all of them."

he takes a deep breath, and lucretia says nothing, letting him gather himself to continue. "i can't pretend it wouldn't— that i wouldn't like to have her here," he says, and his voice drops quiet and low, just for the two of them, "but if i blame you for that, or if i blame myself for it, or— it doesn't change anything. it doesn't bring her back. i just... i don't want you blaming yourself for things that you weren't even _there_ to control. i don't know. just don't use my stuff as an excuse to beat yourself up. okay?"

lucretia lets out a slow, gentle sigh, and then reaches around his waist and holds him like he's holding her. "i can't promise," she murmurs. "it's hard to see you hurting and know that... that things could have been different if i had made different choices."

"but i could've made different choices, too," magnus says. the clouds overhead roll by slow and lazy, blocking out the moon and casting the yard and the porch and the two of them a little darker. "we all could have, about a hundred thousand different things. you weren't _there,_ luce, you can't blame yourself for that stuff."

"and you can?" lucretia challenges. "why is it unfair for me to shoulder blame for things that are indirectly my fault, but it's fair for you when you didn't _know_ any better?"

"don't do that," magnus says. "luce, stop. it's not about me."

"it's about all of us, magnus," lucretia says. "it's about you and taako and lup and everyone as much as it's about me. everything i did affected everyone, it affected the whole _world._ "

"we all made the relics, luce," magnus says.

"and i made you forget," lucretia says. "i took you away from your family and set you down in a town where i knew you would be happy, all the while praying that i wouldn't have to take you away from that, and part of me knowing that i would have to. and when julia died, i knew that at least it wouldn't hurt so bad for you to leave, then. at least that was one less thing i was taking from you, except that i _did_ take her from you, by putting you two in the same circles to begin with."

"okay, except—" magnus breaks off, huffing with frustration, and he pulls his arm away from her and turns suddenly. he grabs her by the shoulders and tugs her to face him, and she looks up at him through her thin, rectangular glasses and grips her notebook and she is both lucretia cowering behind a table in a bar the night before the mission, and the director sitting imperiously on her throne in the moonbase at the same time.

"except you didn't kill her," magnus says, staring her directly in the eyes. "it was—"

"it doesn't matter who holds the weapons, magnus," lucretia says, cutting him off. "it matters who put the pieces in their place."

"we're _not_ pieces," magnus says. "we're people, luce. and so are you. and people fuck up, people make mistakes, and that means that i can fuck up, too, and i _have._ a lot. you know that."

"this argument isn't going anywhere," lucretia says, and she turns just enough to pull magnus's left arm from her shoulder as she shifts away from him. her head falls to her notebook. "you have to realize you're not going to change my mind. i'm certainly realizing i can't change yours."

"i just—" another wave of frustration passes through his stomach, but this time it's crowned with sadness, and it's tired and sluggish, and he just wants her to _understand._ "i just don't want you to blame yourself for things that i had a hand in, too."

"and i could say the same thing to you," she whispers.

and that's fair, he supposes. or it would be, if it was true, but it's not her fault. so she put him in raven's roost — she didn't put julia on that street. she didn't put magnus's hands on julia's cart, she didn't put his application on steven's desk, or the ring on magnus's finger. she didn't put the fire to their house.

he opens his mouth to argue again, but she's right — this conversation isn't going anywhere. he isn't going to win, and neither is she. they're just going to keep going in circles, desperate to prove the other wrong, but there's a lot more going on here than just a basic assignment of guilt. lucretia has a dozen things she's working on, trying to improve in herself and apologize for — and maybe magnus does, too.

lucretia is probably one of the strongest people he knows. she's the only one of them that weathered a cycle alone, the only reason that they're all standing here now, together, for a holiday that felt like something they weren't allowed to have for a long time, with new additions and a future stretched out in front of them. she made mistakes, but she's atoning for them, and she's— she's asking for _help._ she knows what she did, and maybe that list is longer in her head than it is in tangible, physical consequences, but she's working on it. lucretia has been bold enough and strong enough to admit that something isn't right, and that she's not okay, and—

and carey begged magnus to do that, too. taako asks him for it, every time he puts a hand to the back of magnus's neck, every time he drags him out of the room and sets him to work at a task. lucretia is asking him for it now, begging him to share some of the blame.

and all magnus has to do, really, is say yes. he just has to lean into this thing that they’re asking him for — why is that so hard?

he doesn’t know what to say to her now, out loud, so he just slumps a little and slides his arm around her shoulders again, and pulls her into his side once more. she goes easily, giving in and letting him hold her.

and they sit in silence again, warming each other as best they can until they both start to shiver a little, and then magnus wraps both arms around her and they stare up at the stars together, and magnus says, “what were you writing about?”

“today,” lucretia murmurs. she raises a hand and rests it at his elbow, holding on carefully. “dinner, with everyone here and safe and happy to be together.”

magnus presses his cheek to the top of her head again. “are we?” he asks. “are _you?_ ”

“happy?” lucretia asks. “well, no one’s running from the room every time i walk in anymore. davenport— well, if he hasn’t forgiven me, he’s at least found a way to be comfortable with me. i just need to…” she pauses, and sighs, and her left arm winds around his back once more, so they’re both holding each other as much as they can.

“i just need to keep working on the rest,” she murmurs.

magnus lifts his head and turns it to kiss her hair, and carefully extricates one arm to brush a few strands back from her forehead. “for what it’s worth,” he says, “you’re doing a pretty good job already.”

he can’t see her smile, not with how she ducks her head and curls into him a little tighter. “thank you, magnus,” she says. “and happy candlenights.”

“right back at you,” he whispers. and they stay there until the cold chases them back inside.

* * *

magnus has a problem to resolve, one that had faded to the back of his mind in light of everything else that’s been going on, but with the first night of candlenights passed and a half dozen reminders from his family, it now looms once more — he has absolutely zero gifts for anyone.

he’d originally intended to just repurpose his many woodworking projects, but that feels half hearted and half assed now, with all the things that have happened in the last week and a half. he feels like he owes them something more, even if he's not entirely sure what that is.

but for the first time in months, he's suddenly grateful for his insomnia. the temperature drops suddenly and heavily with the sunset, and he sits up by the side of the couch and occasionally gets up to stir the fire back to life, and while he sits there he slowly, meticulously carves at small blocks of wood.

he goes at it with a care that he hasn't used in a long time. this is not the purposeless, mindless movement of a man just trying to occupy his mind — it's been a long time since he had a _reason_ to be so careful and precise. his house is littered with half-finished projects, and he wouldn't say he's disappointed in himself with any of them, but those were more to keep his mind on something, and less because he was set on _creating_ something.

he hasn't been commissioned for something like this in a long time, either. raven's roost hasn't had much need for it; he's been needed more for bigger projects, sturdy tables and desks and the foundations of houses. the closest he's done to this kind of work was the box for killian's engagement ring, and in the intermediary he's been more focused on the sort of thing that hasn't required much thought or attention. he _had_ carved the intricate details of fisher's tentacles from memory, but that was more so that he wouldn't think about the creak of branches outside or the slowly approaching sunrise.

and this takes some real thought _._ he knows he's planning to work small, so he finds a collection of blocks about the right size and shape, but after that he's not quite sure where to go at first.

the problem is that it's tempting to fall back on old, familiar, safe ideas. he could carve a small umbrella for taako, or a tree for merle, but what does that mean to them now? does that represent who magnus sees taako as now? and worse, could it all be just a reminder of the times before, before they remembered, before they knew who they were?

and even harder, the last thing he wants to do is leave anyone out, which means he has a grand total of twelve small trinkets to put together in the span of just under eighteen hours. it's not an impossible feat, but ideally he'd like a little more time to put in some thought and work, maybe a bit of work with some staining and careful sanding, but he's put this off to the last minute, so he should just—

he should just do the best he can, he supposes.

midnight finds him swapping between hunks of wood as ideas come to him. he's never been particularly creative, and this whole process reminds him suddenly of the legato conservatory, of the night before the assessments, how he stayed up so late and felt so proud of his stupid, tiny duck. he can't remember, really, the last time that he felt so particularly proud of himself for something — maybe for a second, just a _second,_ after they crafted the relics, after he laid eyes on the chalice for the first time.

and there was a moment then, wasn't there? magnus had held something in his hands right then and thought, just for a moment, that maybe this was their chance. maybe this was a better weapon than anything else they could throw at the hunger.

he's still not sure if that was the light of creation, tugging at him to put it to use, to turn its power loose on the world — and he did, he supposes, just in a roundabout way.

but he's always been good with his hands, even if he didn't have quite the refined technique he has now, or the experience or the careful teaching. he still wouldn't quite say his technique is _refined,_ but it's certainly more careful and precise than it was back at the conservatory, or even onboard the starblaster as he crafted the chalice. he's always felt a little more useful and a little smarter when he has something physical and tangible to work with, rather than some unseeable, unbeatable foe hanging over his shoulder and waiting for him to stumble.

he wonders if that's part of lucretia's thing, with the writing, or taako and lup with their cooking, barry with his experiments and davenport with his ships. merle, maybe, is a little better with the abstract, but he's also got a grip on some spiritual things that magnus doesn't think the rest of them are really on a level to contend with. but the rest of them— they've all got something like this, like magnus's carpentry, something physical and real that they can turn to. something to ground them.

it's a strange feeling, to think of it that way. they all have their demons, he knows. they've all had horrible things happen to them, they've all lost so much and fought so many battles and there's a whole heft of mental, emotional, spiritual, _physical_ baggage that they carry around with them — and magnus doesn't fault lucretia for writing, for putting her thoughts down on paper and trying to use that to boost her up, just a little. he doesn't question why taako gets up early sometimes and throws together a simple breakfast with simple ingredients for everyone to share, or why he bakes in the middle of the night and leaves a plate of muffins on the kitchen table while he sleeps through the day. he doesn't question why davenport takes to the sea to lose himself in the swell of the ocean and the manual labor of keeping a shift aloft and moving in the right direction.

so why, he wonders, is it so fucking hard to let this be the same for him?

he sets down the wood and knife in his hand, letting it fall into his lap, and stares into the fire for a long time. behind him on the couch, angus and mavis slumber silently, shifting only slightly, retracting when their feet brush in the middle of the couch. merle snores gently under a heap of blankets, and lucretia is completely still except for the rise and fall of her sides under the blankets. mookie is out like a light, mouth agape slightly as he drools face first into his pillow. farther away, davenport lays on his side, facing away — he could still be awake, magnus supposes, but he's always been a very quiet sleeper.

magnus doesn't know why he's thinking about this. maybe it's the crackle of the fire, chasing away the silence, echoing in his ears and accenting the soft noises of his family sleeping around him. maybe it's that it's always harder at night, when his brain and his body both know they should be resting, but he can't quite make it happen.

maybe it's just that it's candlenights, and for the first time in a long time, magnus feels completely at home, yet separate, and isolated, and alone.

which is stupid, isn't it? he's not alone. his entire family is dealing with just as much as he is, if not more. they've all said as much, used it as a prod to try to get him to open up, and he turns them away every time. and for what? to protect his pride? to protect them? to make them worry less?

it's awful hypocritical of him, isn't it? to poke taako into talking, to corner lucretia into a conversation, to drag his whole family here to try to put together some kind of cathartic get together, and then to turn them away and shut them out as soon as they turn that same attention on him.

maybe it's just that even now, in the middle of the night, when he sits up straight, wide awake and with sleep nowhere on the horizon, chasing his own mind around in circles and listening past the snap of the fire and merle's snores for sounds of approaching attackers — even now, he can't admit that something might be wrong.

not might be. something _is_ wrong. this is not how his mind used to work. he wasn't hypervigilant like this on the starblaster, not in the beginning years. he wasn't like this at ipre training, or at home with his parents. he wasn't really even like this in raven's roost, the first time, not until after—

the fire pops loudly, and he grimaces and sets his work aside for a moment, crawling across the floor to tamp it down just a little and poke the logs into place. he sits back on his heels afterwards, feeling his knees pop a little. he's not old, not yet, but he's not as young as he used to be, either. his body has started to wear, just a little. he's never going to be the twenty-something that stepped onto the starblaster with a hangover again, which is a strange and disorienting thought for a second, if only because that wasn't true for an entire century.

but if his body has worn down, why not his mind? and why does he hold it against himself in ways he would never turn on any of his family, who have endured so much worse and so much deeper than him?

he doesn't have answers. he opens his mouth, just to test himself, just to say the words — _"i can't sleep. i'm scared, but i don't know what i'm scared of. i have to protect everyone or else something horrible will happen."_ — but no words come out.

he sighs heavily. merle keeps snoring. the rest of his family around him stays slumbering.

magnus crawls back to his spot by the couch and goes back to work.

* * *

he's far from finished with his gifts by the time everyone wakes, but he's given a reprieve in the form of something he missed in his single-minded focus on his work while everyone slept — it snowed overnight.

it's not the kind of snow they've been getting, either, slushy and melted before anyone can even get their hands in it. this is heavy and bright and crunchy, and of course, it's mookie who discovers it, with a shriek of joy as he peers out the window early in the morning and rouses the few family members who haven't woken yet.

everyone heads outside as quickly as possible then — even mavis, who has perhaps the most excited and childlike expression on her face that magnus has seen in the entire time she and her father and brother have been here. taako and lup have a less involved meal planned for dinner, so even they duck outside as well, and it's not long before there are several snowball related pranks that devolve into outright war and frozen missiles being launched (magically and otherwise) across magnus's front yard.

magnus himself keeps to the living room, though. he could head out to his workshop, but it's not particularly well insulated, and he needs his hands and fingers at their top capacity for this kind of work. so he settles in at the coffee table and gets back to work.

carey sticks her tongue out at him through the window when she and killian show up, and magnus gives her a little wave. she frowns at him, comical and huge, and waves back at him, gesturing for him to come outside, but he shakes his head and just lifts his tools for her to see. she pouts for half a second, and then disappears, only to reappear as she knocks the front door open and tramps inside.

"stop being a stick in the mud," she says. "come outside and help me annihilate my wife with snow."

"i feel like you two would just team up on me pretty quick," magnus says. "but have fun."

carey frowns deeper at him, crossing her arms and studying him for a moment, and then finally she huffs heavily and stomps over to him. magnus can practically _hear_ davenport wincing and complaining about the wet and dirt she's tracking in, but it's magnus's house, and he doesn't particularly care.

"what's going on?" carey demands, standing over him when she reaches him. she crosses her arms again and stares him down, using her height to its full advantage.

"nothing," magnus says. he's got most of his work stowed away under a blanket on the floor next to him, where anyone wandering in or out won't accidentally see. "i'm just working."

"work later," carey says. "come outside and shove snow down taako's shirt now."

magnus laughs a little, and carey frowns even deeper at that, like she wasn't expecting it. "i'm working on candlenights gifts," magnus says. "pretty sure we're doing exchange tonight and i don't have literally a single one done yet."

carey stares at him with that same frown crooked across her face for a moment, but then it softens and she tips her head to the side. "and that's why you're hiding inside?" she asks.

"i've only got like ten hours to finish twelve gifts," magnus says. "and you're last on the list, so the longer you keep me..."

"asshole," carey says, and kicks him in the thigh, but it's lighthearted and gentle. she drops her arms and shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat. "well... fine, i guess. but once you've got mine done, you better come outside. i don't care if that means you've gotta bump me up the list a little, but if you miss the first real snow of candlenights because you didn't shop smart, that's not my fault."

he reaches over and pats her leg. “i think i’ll be okay,” he tells her. “go have fun.”

she kicks him again, more just toeing at his hip than anything else. “are you okay?” she asks, and her voice is a little lower, a little more careful. “you seem… happier, today.”

“and that’s making you worry?” magnus says. it makes him a little anxious, to even acknowledge this conversation, to not just shove it away and tell her to leave it alone — he can’t even quite meet her gaze now, tipping his head back down to look at his work. but there’s— there’s something that makes him _want_ to acknowledge it. there’s something that makes him want to lean into it.

"i'm always worried about you, goofus," she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice even without seeing it. "but you used to talk like, _all_ the time, and lately... not so much. but you're talking more today."

he mulls that over for a second, and then shrugs and offers her a small, kind of nervous smile. "it's candlenights," he says.

she smiles at that. "yeah, bud," she says. "it is, huh?"

she heads back outside soon after that, and magnus listens to the sounds of his family outside, shrieking with laughter and outrage as they dump snow all over each other and chase each other around the yard. he works with their noise as background music, and he finds that it comes much easier now. it helps that he has a few ideas solidified, but the more he listens to their voices and their yelling and their pounding footsteps on the porch and crunching through the snow, the easier those ideas settle into a coherent concept.

and the work feels _good._ it feels purposeful, it feels— not necessary, but helpful. there's a reason for what he's doing, and as rote and familiar as the motions are, it focuses his mind just enough to take his attention off the lingering, constant sense of vigilance that hovers just at the edge of his consciousness. he's had good days, since everyone has been here, and he's had bad ones as well, but he doesn't think he's had a day yet where everything has settled so naturally into something that feels _good._ he doesn't think he's had a day yet where he's been able to force back the hounds at the door, baying and howling and waiting for him to slip.

his family trails in and out for most of the day, until around lunchtime, when it becomes just about time for lup and taako to start in on dinner, and around that time everyone decides that they're well frozen and damp enough, and magnus's house is taken by a storm and whirlwind of hot baths and changing clothes.

everyone settles in under blankets in the living room then, and taako nonchalantly drops a tray of hot cocoa on the coffee table as he sweeps through on his way to the bedroom. he nearly escapes without anyone calling him on the gesture, but kravitz catches his wrist on his way out and says, softly, "thank you, love," and places a soft kiss in the center of taako's palm.

taako's cheeks go quite possibly the brightest red they physically can, and he whips his hand out of kravitz's grasp. "literally don't mention it ever again," he says, and turns quickly and tears out of the room.

magnus pulls his knees up to his chest and resumes work, but he finds a different spot, a little further away where everyone won't be able to accidentally catch a glance, and thankfully no one is testing that right now. they're far too preoccupied with warming up and drinking down taako and lup's patented cocoa recipe — at least, that is, until mookie starts getting squirmish and demands attention.

"dad," he whines, plopping himself into merle's lap and sloshing both their mugs dangerously. "tell us a candlenights story."

"hmm," merle hums, taking a slow, sagely sip from his mug. "your dad doesn't tell the best candlenights stories, you know. well, that's not fair. but maybe come back and ask me about those stories in, oh, a couple decades or so."

"no fun," mookie pouts. "it's candlenights! you have to have a candlenights story!"

"i could read a chapter from _caleb cleveland and the candlenights crown caper_!" angus says excitedly, and immediately dives to the floor to dig for the stack of books in his luggage, taking the blanket with him and leaving the rest of the couch's occupants looking very sad and cold in his wake.

"that may not hold everyone's interest, angus," lucretia says gently.

"she's right," mavis agrees, already having dived back into her own book. "you have to read _the candlenights cooperative_ first, anyway."

"oh," angus says, and his shoulders sag a little. "i didn't think about that. it really won't make any sense if you don't know how the cooperative was form—"

"i may have something worth telling," davenport says then, swiftly and carefully cutting angus off before he can get started on a full plot summary of his favorite books. "though i'm sure some people here have heard it before."

"i prob'ly haven't," mookie says, sitting up and knocking merle in the chin as he does. "mavis tries to tell me stories and i never listen."

davenport smiles. "well, no, you probably haven't heard this one," he says. "this story is nearly a century old, now."

mookie wrinkles his nose. "old stories are boring."

"well, this one might not be so boring," davenport says. "there's an awful lot of swords and lasers involved."

mookie's eyes go round and huge almost instantly, which davenport evidently takes as permission to continue.

"well," davenport says. angus is climbing back onto the couch, eyes also wide behind his glasses, and kravitz helps him rearrange the blanket over himself and everyone else on the couch before draping an arm over his shoulders carefully. on his other side, lucretia hides a small smile behind her mug, and barry looks uncertain and wary, like he's not sure if this is going to be another story that ends with him as the butt of the joke.

"nearly a hundred years ago now," davenport says, "a spaceship descended on a solemn, snowy world. this was a world of perpetual winter, where it snowed from one end of the year to the other, and its inhabitants were well equipped to handle the cold and all the struggles it brings. they had even built underground bunkers to which they retreated during the coldest months. but the newcomers were uncertain and could barely tell where these people had made their settlements, and they ended up settling down with their spaceship in an empty, desolate section of land."

magnus knows this story, of course — they all do, the starblaster crew. he doesn't remember it with the clarity that davenport apparently does, but he remembers it well enough to know that he's embellishing a little. the world wasn't quite so sad or desolate, and they weren't nearly as _lost_ as he makes it sound, but he's probably leaving out the fact that lup caught a glimpse of the light as it descended mere _seconds_ after they entered that plane, and they only had her description of which way it had gone to follow.

but it was relatively peaceful year, if not particularly interesting for most of it. davenport tells the story of seven aliens trekking across an empty wasteland of snow and ice and rock and the occasional barren forest, but in actuality, they spent most of it exploring in the starblaster, hesitant to venture too far even with the light safely and swiftly secured.

"and finally, one day," davenport says, "the newcomers stumbled across a large metal hatch, leading down straight into the rock below them. they couldn't possibly understand what it was or why it had been made, but it was clearly not a natural formation, and though they should have stayed away, they braved an expedition down inside, to see what secrets this seemingly empty world could hold."

lucretia meets magnus's eyes over the rim of her mug, and he has to cough loudly and look back at his woodworking. that's not an _un_ fair assessment, he supposes, to say that they should have stayed away. it's also probably a bit generous of davenport to call it _brave._ more like barry said, _"well, that's manmade for sure,"_ and lup said, _"wanna take a look?"_ and magnus had already pulled the hatch open and started down the stairs.

"and not one minute after the newcomers stepped into the tunnels were they surrounded by that world's inhabitants, who were not so strange or different from them," davenport goes on. "in fact, the tension between the two groups was soothed rather quickly, and the newcomers found a safe, warm place to weather out the cold months."

well, not all of them. they swapped off on the starblaster pretty frequently — but they slipped down into the tunnels more often than not. even the starblaster with all its new technology and equipment wasn't built to create or retain heat the way those bunkers were. but, magnus remembers, there were also a few good stretches of time that barry and lup spent alone on the starblaster. right now, barry is very carefully not making eye contact with anyone in the room.

"so cold was this world," davenport continues, "that after a few months, the newcomers had soon lost track of time on this world. without the passage of seasons, it became very difficult to keep track of how long they had been there, and if not for their dutiful scribe, they may have completely lost all sense of how long they had to spend there, and how long before they needed to move on to their next venture."

he pauses to smile at lucretia, who is now taking her turn not to look too carefully at anyone, before he goes on. "well," he says, "with their tentative sense of time, they realized far later that they hadn't had a candlenights in some time. in fact, it had been several years at this point since they had last been able to celebrate the holiday, their time so filled with peril and adventure. when this realization came to them, they had only about a month or so before they were due to set off to their next adventure, but the world they were living on had no tradition of candlenights or any seasonal celebration. why would they, when their world was always cold and the seasons never changed?"

his tone and his words have done the trick — mookie is captivated by now, as is angus, and even mavis has lowered her book slightly, and her eyes aren't quite so focused on the page. kravitz and carey and killian all seem to have clued into the true nature of the story, but the rest of the room is very carefully not looking at davenport. it feels a little strange, magnus thinks, to hear it told like this. it feels a lot like eleanor refusing his money, and strangers in the street stopping him to shake his hand and thank him for things he had no direct hand in.

"but the newcomers felt that they needed to take this chance to celebrate," davenport says. "they had precious little time or reason for things like this in their travels, but this had been a relatively safe year, and they felt that they had some small reason to give thanks this time, so they told the inhabitants of that world the story of their celebration, and explained their traditions and their need for the holiday, and the people of that world made space for candlenights."

davenport tips his head down a little then, his chin brushing his chest as his face grows thoughtful and his voice grows a little quieter. "that year," he says, "they thanked whatever gods could hear them and would listen that they had survived. they gave thanks for family, and for the chance they'd been given to find it in strange and unfamiliar places. they gave thanks for their continued health and safety, and for the opportunity they'd been given to meet new people and learn new ways of life. in that cold, empty, desolate world, they had found something warm and protected, and they gave thanks for the fact that the universe would allow something like that to exist."

there's a quiet shuffle of movement on the other side of the living room, and magnus looks over to see that taako and lup are standing in the doorway to the kitchen now. taako has his arm draped around lup's shoulders, and both their faces are distant and solemn while they listen in. lucretia and barry and merle have similar looks on their face, and magnus _feels_ it, deep in his stomach.

they were lucky, that year. they were lucky every year, really, that they didn’t all die on some foreign world, that the hunger didn’t take the whole universe and leave not even a memory behind.

and you know what? they're lucky now, magnus thinks. _he's_ lucky. he's lucky that he didn't die in an empty wasteland outside refuge. he's lucky he didn't get smashed against the side of a mountain, trailing off on a rope behind a speeding train. he's lucky he didn't take the chalice, he's lucky he had merle and taako there to grab his soul from the ether and drag him back into a vessel, he's lucky he made those deals with garfield, that there was a body ready for him, fresh and new and alive.

and he's lucky right fucking now. he's lucky that he has a family around him, that everyone he loves and cares about was able to trek out to his house and spend a holiday with him. maybe it's not so lucky that julia is gone, that he lost someone who he loved and loves more than anyone he's ever met, and in ways that he'll never be able to replicate — but isn't he lucky that he even experienced that at all? isn't he lucky that he got to meet someone that special, to experience even a fraction of the world with her, to learn to see things the way she saw them? isn't he lucky to have even known her?

it doesn't change that she's gone, he thinks. it doesn't change that it hurts. none of that luck cancels out the weight that he carries, but maybe those things can exist together. maybe he can have one and the other at the same time. maybe he can hurt and be tired, and also be grateful and exuberant and so, _so_ lucky.

"eventually," davenport says softly, and the whole family stirs a little. magnus wonders if they're thinking the things he's thinking, if they're looking back on all the things they've been through, on all the events and the tragedy and the pure, stupid, dumb luck that's brought them here.

"eventually," davenport says again, "the travelers had to move on. but the years after that were a bit lighter. they walked a bit taller, they were a bit more prepared and excited for the challenges that awaited them, because they knew that not all the universe was evil and dark and treacherous. they learned to cherish small moments like that, and to treasure them while they were there and to look back and remember that it was exactly those moments that they were fighting for. and things didn't seem so bad, then."

it's not a _happily ever after,_ but that would be a lie, anyway. it was a good candlenights, magnus thinks, even if it was strange and foreign and none of the locals knew really what they were doing or why, or understood or even cared. but it had felt nice to pray to a god he couldn't be sure was listening, and to thank someone for the fact that they'd made it as far as they had.

and now, in the present, he thinks, he should remember that still. it's so simple, isn't it? to know that the dark can't exist without the light. you can't have bad years without good ones, you can't have sleepless nights without dreamless slumber. you can't have fighting and stress without laughter and joy. it's not new information, it's not a missing piece of a puzzle — but it's something that maybe doesn't make sense all the time.

magnus isn't good with concepts, with things he can't hold in his fingers and turn over in his hands, with things he can't put a punch or an ax into. and this particular one — it's a little abstract, isn't it? and it's easy to forget. it's easy to get caught up in the motion, the perpetual flight from one conflict, one cycle, one relic to the next, and to let his brain get stuck like that, constantly running, constantly fighting, constantly reaching for next, bigger, faster, stronger—

but you can't have motion without stillness. you can't have noise without silence. and more importantly, you can't _appreciate_ the motion until you're still. you can't see why you _need_ the silence, how the noise can deafen you, when it's all you're used to.

he's not sure what that means, for him. he's not sure where that leaves him, or where he takes that next. he's not sure what he's supposed to do with that information floating around his brain. it feels like staring down at a scroll, seeing his face and a red robe and knowing that there's a connection and not being able to put it together. there's a next step here, and he can't take it, but it's not fisher or junior this time. it's just his own brain, staticking out.

and mookie seems to get that — he says, "i don't get it. were there dragons?"

there's a quiet, thoughtful chuckle that runs around the room, followed by gentle smiles and thoughtful, distant looks in eyes and faces. that's what they were fighting for, isn't it? not for someone to know their story, not for someone to tell them thank you — and mookie knows the story, everyone does. but they weren't fighting for that. they were fighting so he could hear the story and just... move on. it wouldn't have to weigh him down, it wouldn't have to follow him through his life, into adulthood and beyond. he could just— he can just live, in ignorance and bliss, and he never has to fear the hunger, or anything that big, that terrifying, ever again.

"i'll tell you a dragon story another time," merle promises his son, and wraps his arms around him in a surprisingly tender gesture that magnus isn't used to seeing from him. but he's got a soft expression on his face, one that magnus thinks he might not have seen before — but then, even with the hundred years of experience he has with merle and his various expressions, it wasn't until the last six months or so that he knew anything about merle as a _father._

"dragons are overrated," taako says from the kitchen. he and lup are still standing awfully close together, and she's got her head tipped against his, their height a perfect match. they look very much like twins right now, even with taako's glamour pushing the boundaries just a little. "ask krav for some ghost stories instead."

"maybe another night," kravitz says. his hold on angus isn't quite what merle's is on mookie, but it's something similar, almost reminiscent.

mookie _hmphs_ and flops back against merle's chest with a pout. "are there ghost dragons?" he asks.

kravitz smiles, and he winds his arm a little tighter around angus, who is looking very thoughtful and still a bit consumed with davenport's story. "oh, mookie," kravitz says. "there are things in this world and all the others that you could never imagine. i do hope you get to see some of them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next week's chapter will be the last official chapter. after that all that's remaining is the epilogue, but i am starting work on a taakitz centered fic set in the same universe as this one, so there's that to look forward to!
> 
> as always, share your thoughts with me in the comments, on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia), or on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings for this chapter: description of a panic attack, all running cws
> 
> just about at the end here!!! this is the chapter i am most proud of overall, so i hope everyone enjoys it. happy candlenights!!!

dinner is a less fantastic affair that second night, but no less important. taako and lup take just as much pride in what they present, and certainly taste hasn't fallen by the wayside. if anything, it's a bit easier to appreciate that now, with the first night gone by and the need for intensity and intimacy dismissed.

after dinner, magnus (a bit ungraciously) slips out before he can be conscripted to help clean up, and dives back into his work. he only has details left, but most of what he's fashioned is still rough, and certainly not up to his usual standards. it doesn't feel _great,_ to think that he's presenting them with something that he isn't fully proud of, but— he can at least recognize that there's some heart in there.

mookie is still consumed with thoughts of ghost dragons for the entirety of dinner, but it occurs to him at some point that a gift exchange is going to happen soon, and he's quickly distracted from his incessant questioning in favor of rushing everyone through cleaning up so they can do presents _now._

it's a bit awkward — not everyone has invested in gifts, and they certainly aren't all on equal footing when it comes to their relationships with one another. but taako breaks the ice eventually with a huff and disappears into the guest bedroom, reappearing with a large bag that he drops heavily onto the coffee table.

"i know none of you bought a copy," he says as he pops open the fastenings, "because you're all either fake or huge fucking mooches, so here you go." he reaches into the bag and pulls out a book, emblazoned on the front with flashy fonts and a highly stylized drawing of taako himself, and then holds it out imperiously in lup's direction. she doesn't look the slightest bit scandalized to have been caught not buying her brother's book.

"they're signed on the inside," taako says. "and they've got very personal messages, so don't go selling them, or i'll know. and why would you want to sell them anyway? this is the best book you'll ever read. it's funny, it's heartwarming, it's inspirational, it's got something for the whole family. there's recipes, there's touching childhood tales, there's a few of those clever bits of taako wisdom you won't get anywhere else. you won't be able to put it down! in fact, if you decide to tell all your friends and neighbors about the wonderful and amazing book you've picked up lately, give me a call, because i've got about five hundred more of these suckers sitting around back home."

he starts distributing the books, not even glancing inside to see which one supposedly goes to who, which makes magnus doubt the truthfulness of these _very personal messages,_ but when he turns it open to the inside cover, that certainly is his name scrawled across the page in taako's simultaneously messy and artful and effortless scrawl.

he looks up just in time to see taako turn and fix his eyes on lucretia, pausing only for half a second before he holds out another copy of the book in her direction. she looks down at it, hesitating and pushing her glasses up her nose before looking back up and meeting taako's gaze.

"i actually already finished it," she says.

taako's mouth twitches, just a little, and he seems to battle with himself before speaking, like he can't decide whether to respond to that or just ignore it and move on. in the end, all he says is, "oh?"

"i thought you were exaggerating a little," lucretia admits. "but it really is very good. i hope you're proud of it."

in any other tone of voice, that would sound condescending, magnus thinks. but instead it just sounds honest, and sincere, and maybe just a little scared.

taako lets his arm fall, lucretia's copy of his book hanging at his side. "... oh," he says again. there's a long, extended silence, and everyone is watching, waiting for what happens next, waiting to see who will extend the olive branch or turn away in bold and blatant rejection.

and then, after just a beat more, taako lifts his arm again and says, "well, that copy wasn't signed. so i guess you can sell that one, but keep this one where everyone can see it and tell them to call. i can mark up signed copies like thirty percent or something."

"fifteen, dear," kravitz reminds him.

"or something," taako says again, louder.

lucretia reaches out and takes the book. "thank you, taako," she says, softly.

"don't mention it," taako says, and then breezes back over to the couch and drops himself into kravitz's lap.

the whole exchange becomes a little less formal after that — less passing out presents and everyone breaking into them simultaneously, and more a hectic tossing of gifts across the room to whoever you managed to get them for. magnus finds himself suddenly and alarmingly confronted with a pile of packages that he was absolutely not expecting — after all, he dragged everyone out here in the first place, didn't he?

"what do you look so confused for?" lup teases him as she holds out a small, brightly wrapped package with a comically large tag affixed to it. "we're all in your house, aren't we? it's the least we could do. you let me and bare sleep in your bed, no one else is nice enough or brave enough to do that.”

“or stupid enough,” taako calls. lup flips him off without even turning around.

but in the end, magnus is left with a pile of things he wasn't expecting and isn't really prepared for, either. every single person he invited to his house has presented him with something — including davenport, who hasn't brought gifts for anyone else, even if his is just wrapped in plain brown paper that magnus recognizes as having probably been used to hold some of the vegetables he picked up for taako and lup's extensive menu.

it's not that he isn't _grateful,_ he just doesn't know what to _do_ with all of this. he can't ever remember being showered with gifts like this on candlenights, and if it did happen then it was easily a hundred and twenty something years ago, and maybe longer. but everyone else around him is tearing into paper and ribbons and tossing things left and right to get at their exciting new toys and books and clothes, and it's hard not to get caught up in that excitement a little.

he would like to be careful and reverent with these gifts, but he does end up just kind of tearing at the packages and tossing the wrappings to the side as he gets into it. the first one he opens is from merle, and inside he finds a stack of coupons for his adventuring business — fifteen percent off a first trip, twenty percent off a return trip, an assortment of food vouchers and coupons for other businesses he's partnered with — and they're tied tightly with some thick twine, with a note tucked inside in merle's handwriting.

it reads, _like to have you around more. come hang out and teach the kids a thing or two about swinging an ax. — merle._

underneath, written a little more hastily, he's written, _ps. chaperones get paid. and you don't have to sleep on the ground._

magnus laughs out loud, but no one even notices, so caught up in the joy of their own gifts. he tries to catch merle's eye over the rest of their family's chaos, but he's too busy wrangling his own pile of gifts while trying to keep an eye on mookie and mavis at the same time, so magnus gives up quickly and moves on to the next package.

this one is from lucretia, and it's much larger than some of the others. when he gets inside, he pulls out a huge, thick, padded coat — bright red and waist length, and his breath catches a little when he sees it. feeling like an absolute child, he immediately pulls it on, and of course it fits perfectly. it's warm and snug and familiar in ways he didn't know new clothes could be. when he glances up, he sees a handful of other red jackets and coats and robes being pulled from packages as well, or already draped over shoulders. angus has an ankle length red robe and is on his feet twirling to show it off, and lup and barry are sharing one over their shoulders and another draped over their legs like a blanket.

"those are enchanted," lucretia says, with a little blush to her cheeks as she says it. "they're temperature moderated, so they should generate heat in the cold and a slightly chilling effect in the heat. and that's cruelty free padding, of course."

"hm," taako says, and tugs kravitz's hood up over his dreads — red isn't his color, but the cut is absolutely perfect for him. taako pats kravitz's cheek and glances in lucretia's direction. "and stylish too, luce, who knew you had it in you?"

lucretia says nothing — but she doesn't have to. the expression on her face says it all.

davenport has gotten him a small wooden talisman with a single key hanging from the attached keyring. the note he's included is short and to the point, much like merle's — it simply reads, _i think you'd like the sea — cap'n._

the talisman is cylindrical and simple, but it has the image of a bear carved on one side and a bird on the other, and it takes magnus a little while to realize that the curves and edges are unrefined and imperfect because davenport has carved it himself. it catches in his throat a little when he realizes that, thinking of davenport out on the deck of his ship, alone at sea under a cloudless, bright blue sky, with a small chunk of wood and a knife in his hand, and thoughts of magnus in his head. and it’s so— so similar to the little trinkets magnus has tucked away out of sight, and davenport doesn’t even _know_ that, somehow stumbling onto the same wavelength as magnus without even trying.

it hits him with a wave of emotion he wasn't prepared to feel, rolling over him and through him until his world is momentarily narrowed down to just the keychain in his hand and a strong, almost irresistible urge to rush across the room and scoop davenport up in the tightest hug he can muster. but he holds it back, if only because davenport didn't make much of a show of handing it over, and he doesn't want to put him on the spot when he didn't get anything for anyone else.

he tucks the keychain into the pocket of his new jacket, and as he does his fingers brush something inside. he tugs it out to find a slip of paper — and written on it, in very familiar handwriting, are the words, _one free back rub._

his head shoots up, but lucretia isn't looking at him, slowly turning the pages on one out of a two foot tall stack of notebooks that she's accumulated. magnus slowly slides the piece of paper back into his pocket, and tries to focus on the rest of his gifts.

carey and killian got him a joint gift, containing a new pocketknife with a dozen or so additional tools that magnus can't quite make heads or tails of right away, but carey also got him one of her own. he's a bit confused at first, opening a box to find another box inside, until he realizes that it's a ring box, and that there's a plain gold band inside — one that very, _very_ closely resembles the one on his finger.

and there it is again, that wave of emotion. he barely has time to process it, though, because there's a note folded up very tight and tucked in with the ring, and it falls to the ground as soon as he opens the box. it's only well-honed and carey-trained reflexes that allow him to catch it before it hits the floor.

inside, carey writes, _hey best friend. happy candlenights. thanks for the party, i'm sure it's great. i actually have no idea because i'm writing this like a week before we're set to leave, but i bet it's freaking awesome and we're eating huge amazing meals every night and throwing snowballs at each other and i bet killian is real sick of our shit already. this is literally the sappiest gift i'll ever give you so don't get used to it but think of it less as a candlenights gift and more of a thank you. ok brace yourself because this next paragraph is gonna suck to read if you're not ready for it._

_it's really fucking rare and weird to find someone who understands you and also loves you at the same time. i got real fucking lucky and found two of those people — my wife, and my best friend. and i might not have the first one if it wasn't for the second one. i owe a lot about how good my life is right now to you, because without you kicking me in the ass i might not have acted fast enough and who knows where me and k would be right now._

_i know that marriage and love is a really tough thing for you and we don't have to talk about this literally ever again, but i wanted you to know that i get it. not completely, like obv, but i know how much this means to you, and i know how much she means to you. i know how much she'll always mean to you. so as thanks for making sure i wasn't stupid enough to miss my own wedding, here's something stupid to help you remember and memorialize yours. i have no idea if i spelled that right. happy candlenights best friend. love, carey._

he's biting his bottom lip hard by the time he reaches the end, and he has to shut the box and shove it into his pocket with davenport's keychain and lucretia's coupon, and while he's at it, he shoves the note from merle's gift in there as well. when he glances up, carey is looking at him, and she offers him the smallest little smile, obviously having seen his reaction. he knows he should smile back, but he can't muster it just now. his hands are shaking.

he picks up the next gift, this one from lup and barry. inside is another knife, but it's bigger than the one from carey and killian, more of a dagger and less of a pocket tool. but the blade is a dark burgundy color that turns even redder with the reflection of his jacket, and the handle is intricately carved with runes that magnus can't make heads or tails of.

"oh shit!" lup calls from across the room, having caught sight of him opening this particular box. "okay, that was really hard to get a hold of, so like, don't lose it." she breaks into giggles then, and barry rolls his eyes.

"that's a joke," he tells magnus. "it's got a retrieval spell on it. it's kinda inspired by the chance lance, but we figured that's probably kinda conspicuous to walk around with, and the distance on this is longer. as long as it's like, ten miles? give or take? somewhere around there, as long as it's within that range, if you will it to you it'll come. it's attuned to you specifically, magnus, so it's not gonna get stolen or anything, and even if it does, you can just call it back." he shrugs then, looking a bit embarrassed as he realizes that a considerable amount of attention has turned onto him. "lup did the spellwork."

"and bare did the research to figure out if something like that was even possible," lup says. "but we thought it might make being out in the streets feel a little safer. or in bed. wherever, really."

she says it so easily, so nonchalantly, like she— like she _knows._ and maybe she does, she's been sleeping in a bed with three powerful and enchanted weapons stowed underneath for safekeeping and easy access. but maybe she also just— maybe she gets it. maybe she understands, or maybe she just can see the tension down magnus's spine, maybe she hears his prowls around the house late at night, or maybe—

who knows, really. "thank—" magnus starts to say, but it feels like his voice is about to break, and he stops to clear his throat. "thank you," he says then, but it's neither as loud nor as strong as he'd like.

"no problem, bud," lup says. she rests her head against barry's, a dreamy, faraway look on her face. magnus can't look at them for much longer.

he only has one more gift left, then, and this one is from angus. the package is thin, but wide and heavy, and there's a note attached to the front with magnus's name written on it, in very careful, precise handwriting.

magnus pulls the note away, accidentally ripping the paper underneath in the process, but he averts his eyes quickly so as to not spoil the surprise. _dear sir,_ angus's note starts, but then he's crossed it out and immediately underneath he's written, _dear magnus._

 _thank you very much for inviting me to candlenights at your house. before you invited me, i wasn't sure where i was going to go. last year was my first time away from home for candlenights. i used to spend it with my grandfather, but i can't do that anymore, and i didn't know what i was going to do, so i'm very happy to spend it with you and all our friends_ — and he's crossed out _friends_ and written — _family. there's a girl in one of my classes who is a very gifted painter and i thought it would be good to commemorate the first candlenights after the day of story and song, especially since everyone would be all together. i was going to give this to taako, but i think everyone would like it better if this was at your house, since that's where all our memories of this year's candlenights will be. i hope you like it. yours, angus mcdonald._

angus's package is carefully wrapped in dark brown paper and tied very precisely with thick twine. magnus slows down only because the twine is making it a bit difficult to get to the actual gift inside, but when he does finally get into it— he feels like he's been punched in the gut.

there's so much detail to take in. the frame itself is masterful but simple, the kind of thing that someone had to know magnus would appreciate. it's stained a dark brown, almost matching the color of the mantle above magnus's fireplace, and the whole thing is sturdily constructed, with thick, strong glass protecting the image inside.

and it's that image that really gets to him, of course. he forgets, sometimes, that everyone in the world knows his face, knows all their faces. even angus and carey and killian are somewhat heroes to a lot of people now, which isn't great for angus's detective business but has got to be something of a mood booster. it also means that all of their faces are captured in the image inside this frame in perfect detail, down to the scar above merle's eye and the exact offset angle of barry's glasses. they have the jaunty tilt of taako's hips into kravitz's side, and an exact replication of the way his arm slides around lup's waist to pull her close.

merle is up front, an arm around either of his kids. mavis has a tiny little smile on her face, like maybe, _finally,_ her father said something funny, and mookie is grinning huge and bright with three missing teeth. to the right is davenport, arms crossed in the exact picture of poise and dignity, and lucretia is behind him with a hand on his shoulder, smiling delicately with her hair pinned up in the elegant kind of way that magnus hasn't seen her do in a long time.

carey and killian are next to lucretia, beaming and arms locked together. barry is standing in front of them and centered just a little bit more, holding hands with lup behind mavis's head, and of course taako and kravitz are directly next to them. and standing behind them, towering over everyone else just a bit, with angus perched on his shoulders, is magnus. he's got one arm around taako and kravitz and the other around lup and barry, and angus is clutching onto magnus's head to maintain his balance with a bright, brilliant smile full of laughter.

and they're all smiling. they're all grinning from ear to ear, even magnus, _especially_ magnus. and he's right in the center of it all, and though the arrangement of their group is a little lopsided, the focus of the image is undoubtedly on him. it's a painting, it's just a _painting,_ and it's stylized and it's no photorealism, but it's so undoubtedly him, and his family, and everyone gathered around him and they're all so fucking _happy._

and there's a space, and it's probably unintentional, but there's a space — to magnus's right, on the left side of the painting, where someone else could fit. there's a spot where someone else could stand, maybe with an arm around magnus's waist or his shoulders or just holding onto his arm, and they would fit just perfectly. it wouldn't throw off the composition, he doesn't think, though he's no artist and he certainly doesn't know what he's talking about, but he thinks— he thinks that someone could slot in there just perfect and everything would look just as good. it might look better.

magnus breathes out slowly, and it shakes. he trails his fingers over that empty space, and then over the faces of each of his family in turn. he loves them, he thinks suddenly, with a clarity that smacks him in the face heavy and impossible. he _loves_ them. he loves them so fucking much, and he would do anything for absolutely any of them.

and he needs them. magnus is not who he is without them, without each and every one of them. magnus could not have learned to be the man he is without taako and lup, without barry, without lucretia or davenport, without merle, without killian or _carey,_ without angus, without even kravitz and without merle's kids, who magnus doesn't know half as well but it's still _true._ they've all changed him, just a little and some of them quite a lot, because that's how friendship works. that's how _family_ works.

his eyes are stinging, but he holds it back as tightly as he can. angus has just opened a brand new wand bestowed upon him by his favorite aunt and uncle, and everyone is cheering him on as taako puts him through his paces, burning whatever spell slots weren't spent during the snowball fight earlier. they're not focused on magnus, and he's grateful, because he doesn't think he could handle that right now.

he very carefully sets angus's gorgeous, perfect painting down on the ground, leaning it against the side of his chair, and he picks up taako's book, which is still sitting in his lap. he swallows hard as he tries to collect himself and thumbs through it almost absent mindedly. to be honest, he has no real idea what taako's book is about — he knows there's some recipes in here, and some stories, and some amount of magical education, and a decent number of bad, stolen aphorisms, but he's not altogether sure what strings all those concepts together.

he's just starting to feel bad about that and is halfway to shutting the book and setting it aside for later when he can properly appreciate it, and then the pages flip with gravity to the inside front cover. certainly enough, taako has signed it big and bold across the hardcover front, and on the first page, against the pale blue paper, he's written, _magnus._

 _magnus,_ he's written, _you're gonna like chapter 14. i wrote it just for you. i wish i was joking and this was a funny bit where we joke about not actually being friends, but it's actually true. i don't know who or where i'd be without you to watch my back when lup's not around. if you ever show this to anyone, i'll kill you, and my boyfriend will not protect your soul._

he's signed it with a flourishing heart and another signature, though this one is a bit more legible and significantly smaller. magnus takes a deep breath before flipping to chapter fourteen.

the title is, _siblings that aren't just my sister: the magnus burnsides story (and some others)._

and somehow, that’s the last straw. magnus slaps the book shut with force he wasn't intending and stands up abruptly. his hands are shaking. his breath is coming quick and sharp and he needs to get _out,_ he needs to not be in this room. they'll be safe for now, just for a little, they'll be fine while magnus steps away and gets himself back under control and calms down and then he'll come back and they'll all still be here—

but will they? this is his fucking _family,_ can he chance that? is his moment of weakness the opportunity the universe needs? is this when the lightning strikes, when the boulder tumbles down the mountain, when the secret assassin slips through the window? is this when magnus finds an arrow in his throat and his family burned away, _again,_ fucking _again—_

he shoulders through the front door before he even knows what's happening, before he's even really processed anything. he can hear a general noise of surprise and confusion behind him, but he doesn't stop to listen. his feet are carrying him away when his head and his heart are telling him to stay inside, where it's warm, where his family is—

the snow is still packed tight and heavy underneath his feet. he has every intention of just stopping and sinking into it at the roots of the oak tree, but his feet keep carrying him onward, out past the gate and down the road, and he doesn't stop.

he has taako's book clutched tight to his chest and lucretia's jacket pulled over his shoulders. lup and barry's knife is in his left pocket, and he's got merle's note and carey’s box and davenport's keychain and lucretia's coupon in the right. the jacket's enchantment is working, heating him slowly, and it's only when that heat slowly starts to travel up to his face that he realizes he's crying.

he's lucky it's dark and no one can see him and all his big, stupid mess as he makes his way down the road. it starts to snow again before long, and then he's just bumbling along with tears running down his cheeks and into his beard while he holds taako's book to his chest in a kind of hug, with his hands tucked under either arm while he walks.

and he can't _stop_ crying. there's no full body sobs, just quiet tears and the kind of ache in his throat that won't go away, the burning that accompanies the kind of crying that goes on and on and on and won't _stop._ he chokes on it a little, coughing roughly into the air and watching his breath float away in front of him, and only then does he stop walking.

he doesn't know where he's going. he should go back up to the house, really, but then what? there's no way that got ignored. he feels stupid and huge and awful, and he steps off the road and walks out towards the cliff face just so he has somewhere to sit and collect himself for a minute.

but that minute stretches out, and he feels frozen where he sits — and not just from the cold. his body aches. the tear tracks down his cheeks sting from the wind, and his eyes are burning, and his throat hurts and there's snow in his boots because he's not wearing his good ones, and he just wants to be smaller for a second. he wants to be able to curl in on himself and let someone wrap their arms around him and take care of him. or maybe he wants to be bigger, and he wants to be able to block out all of this and laugh it off.

or maybe he just wants to be magnus burnsides, and he doesn't want to be anyone's protector or big brother — he just wants to be their friend. he just wants to be someone who loves someone and who is loved in return. he just wants to lay down and dream normal dreams of normal things, and he wants his nights to not be filled with specters of his dead family, of his wife, of the monsters they fought for so long and the worlds they never properly saved, and all the people he's let down. he just wants to be a _man._

he hunches over and closes his eyes, taako's book still hugged tight to his chest, trying to will away the tears, but it does little good. it's dark and it's cold and he's lonely and exhausted even though he's done this to himself.

he has his legs dangling over the cliffside, and he thinks about carey's words, he thinks about the things that carey is afraid of, and he thinks he should scoot back, just in case she comes by looking for him. he shouldn't let her be scared of that. he shouldn't put her in that position.

and like magic, he hears footsteps in the snow behind him. he swallows hard and clears his throat, trying so hard not to open his mouth and let his voice crack, and then finally he says, "i'm fine, carey."

"wrong chick, but that's good to hear," comes a voice he wasn't expecting. he sits up a little and turns around, and there she is — tall and vibrant and beautiful, draped in red with her hair loose and catching in the wind, and so, _so_ alive.

"oh," he says. "hey, lup."

"hey, bud," she says. she walks over and plops down next to him. she's wearing the cloak from lucretia, and she pulls it tight around her, shivering just a little as she does. magnus thinks suddenly that he's glad she can feel the cold at all.

"um," he says. "i wasn't— i didn't think they'd send you."

lup smiles at him and scoots a little closer, tucking in against his side. "well, they technically didn't send anyone," she says. "last i heard, they were still arguing about whether or not to give you some space, but i got tired of listening to it and decided to take shit into my own hands, so. hey."

"hey," magnus says back. lup leans her head against his shoulder and sighs.

"so what's up, bud?" she asks. "it's fucking freezing out here, don't tell me you were taking a walk."

"i'm—" magnus starts, and then stops himself. someone, carey begged him. anyone.

he takes a deep breath. if he wasn't holding so tight to himself, his hands would be shaking, he thinks. he feels a little nauseous.

but lup is so warm next to him, even as she shivers some more into the cold, her cloak slowly working against the weather to return her to equilibrium. she's so alive, she's so real and tangible and she's _here._ magnus remembers what it was like, when she was gone. that was when things really went wrong for them. maybe before that, they could have worked something out, they could have put back together some piece of the shit they had nearly destroyed, but after lup was gone, there was no chance of that.

and she's here now. she's _here,_ right now, with him, and she's here in the world, and she's alive and she has a body and she's with him, she's with all of them for candlenights. and that's— impossible. and it's the only way the world is ever allowed to be, ever again.

he doesn't know if lup and taako have some extra magic in them, some kind of power that infuses everyone and everything around them with life, but if she didn’t before, then lup certainly has it now, and magnus can practically feel it seeping into him with the heat between their bodies, pressed close together against the cold.

he heaves another heavy breath in and out of his lungs, watches the wind chase it away into the night. “i’m not doing so great, lup,” he whispers.

she reaches for his hand and twists their fingers together. “i’m listening,” she says softly.

"i don't know how to talk about this," magnus says. lup's hand is warm in his, softer than he expected, but callused and rough in some spots from years of working with flame and energy.

"yeah," she says. "i know. it—" she pauses, and hums quietly while she thinks to herself for a moment. when she speaks, it's quieter than before. "it's hard, when everyone looks up to you."

it's— it's not a confession, exactly, but magnus can't help glancing over at her just to check, and there's a look there on her face, an expression that's just a little bit guarded and a little bit unsure. "yeah," he says, quietly. "that's kind of it."

"just, like," lup says, and then stops and takes a deep breath. "when everyone expects you to be one thing, or one way, like all the time. and sometimes you're not."

magnus feels _that_ like a blow to the stomach. he swallows back some kind of emotion and looks away again. "yeah," he says.

"like," lup goes on, and her words are purposeful like she's endeavoring through something that she knows she has to do, but she also seems just a little bit uncertain, a kind of wavering tone and cadence to her voice as she tries to get through it. "like, you're always supposed to be brave, right? or not even _supposed_ to, you just are. things don't scare you like they scare other people."

magnus lets go of lup's hand, but only so he can slide his arm around her shoulders. she's always had a little bit more muscle on her than taako, though not by much, but she's definitely broader and firmer under his arm than lucretia. "yeah," he says again. "i know what that's like."

"yeah," she responds, a little quieter. "but sometimes shit does scare you. like real bad."

he can't quite bring himself to agree to that, but he thinks that his silence says enough.

lup puts a hand on his knee and rubs it — it's soft and intimate, but not in a way that makes magnus feel uncomfortable or question the gesture. it's the kind of thing you can share between family sometimes, just a gentle, easy display of comfort and affection. "shit scares me real fucking bad sometimes, you know," she says. "like, all the time. and i try not to show it because i don't want people to worry, but... when you're talking about the people who know you best, you can't really hide it."

she takes a deep breath, and then sighs on the exhale. "it makes me feel like shit, too," she says. "'cause bare and taako've got like, a decade of shit to work through, right? and now i've got all these problems i never had before, or at least they weren't so bad, i guess. and like... barry doesn't sleep like, great all the time, and the last thing he needs is for me to be waking him up in the middle of the night so he can tell me he can still feel my hands and remind me that i'm like, real."

magnus bites his tongue, thinking of taako and the conversation they had in the kitchen, and magnus's bad, bad, horrible, awful response to the whole thing.

"and taako..." lup sighs again. "we kinda feed into each other's shit, right? like, separation anxiety and stuff. it's not great. we're working on it, but like, you know. it's hard. and there's a hundred other things that i think about _all_ the time now, and it doesn't feel like i ever thought about any of this stuff before, and now i can't _stop._ and i know, like logically— i know i'm supposed to lean on people like barry and taako when it gets bad, but how can i do that when i know that half of their problems come from the fact that i even _have_ problems at all? i can't wake barry up and make him promise me that i'm not gonna wake up trapped somewhere again when i know that he has nightmares about me locked up away from him for the rest of time. i can't put that thought in his head, but i have to because i need that reassurance sometimes, and the whole thing just sucks."

"if it helps," magnus says, because he has to say _something,_ "i won't ever let that happen to you again."

lup laughs then, warm and alive, and magnus wishes he could stop mentally describing _everything_ she does as _alive,_ but what better adjective is there for someone like lup? what better adjective is there after everything she's been through?

"thanks, man," she says, and butts her head affectionately against his shoulder. "i appreciate it. it just— you know how it is. you have to lean on these people because they're the only ones in the world who you trust enough to help you with this stuff, but every time you _do,_ it makes you feel worse."

"yeah," magnus says. "it— yeah."

"i guess all of that to say like, i get it," lup says. "i know that it's hard to talk about. it's fucking scary, right? like, when you're supposed to be the big strong one who comes up with the plans and kicks in the door, but sometimes you just wanna sit on the floor and listen to everyone else talk about kicking in doors, and you don't really wanna do any of it yourself because everything sucks. but like... i know how you start to think about yourself, when you get to that point. and like, it doesn't make you weak. there's nothing wrong with you."

magnus feels a muscle twitch in his jaw, and he has to force himself not to clench his teeth. "i don't know about all that," he says, kind of quietly. and then, just to balance it out a little, he adds, "i've gotten knocked in the head a whole lot."

"okay, that's fair," lup says with a little laugh. "but i think we'll have to wait and see what the effects of that end up being. for now, i don't think there's anything wrong with you. you're just..."

"tired," magnus says.

lup is quiet for just a second, and then she says, "... yeah. you probably are, huh?"

magnus tips his head back and stares up at the sky. the snow is slowing now, but the clouds haven't been quick to dissipate or move on. "yeah," he says. "i am."

"that's okay, you know," lup says softly. "it's okay if you're tired. you work, like... really hard. even now. no one's making you do that. you could've just found a nice place to settle down in and given yourself a break. and i'm not saying that so you blame yourself or decide that it's your own fault you feel like shit sometimes, but like... that's just the kind of person you are. you like to help people. you like to stay busy. but it's a really fucking hard pace to keep up, bud. especially, like, if you're not sleeping."

"it's not on purpose," magnus says, the words slipping from his mouth before he can tell his brain that he doesn't want to _say_ them, and by then it's too late. he takes a deep breath before he can continue, and then decides — fuck it. in for a penny, right? so magnus rushes in.

"i guess sometimes it is," he says. "it— like, i can just tell. sometimes. when it's gonna be bad."

lup makes a quiet noise to show that she's listening, probably trying not to interrupt his momentum, which he appreciates. he swallows back the thing that's clawing up from his stomach, telling him to stop, to shut up, and pushes on. "but most of the time," he says, "i just... can't fall asleep. i just lay there and stare at the ceiling and it just doesn't happen. and then it goes on for so long i end up thinking about stupid stuff and it just... cycles. and suddenly the sun is up and i haven't slept and i'm supposed to go build a house or something and i can't just _not_ do that. so."

"might help to talk about what you're thinking about," lup says quietly.

magnus heaves a big breath in and out, forcing himself to work through it, to not let his body seize up and quit. "i don't know," he says. "everything. a lot of worrying that like, everybody isn't safe. like you and taako and everyone. the whole family. i don't like not knowing where you are."

lup tenses a little, and magnus looks down quickly and gives her shoulder a squeeze. "i don't mean just you," he says. "i mean everyone. i don't like when everyone isn't somewhere i can see them, or at least that i can go check and make sure they're okay."

"this probably goes without saying," lup says, "but you know we can take care of ourselves."

"that makes it worse, honestly," magnus says, looking away from her again and out over what parts of the landscape below they can still make out in the dark. "because then when i realize it's stupid, i get... i don't know. more upset."

"it's hard to realize your brain is kinda irrational sometimes," lup says. "i know."

"yeah," magnus mumbles. "i guess. i just... i'm supposed to keep all of you guys safe. that's my job. that's what i've been doing for like, a century. and now there's even more people i'm supposed to keep safe, too, like angus and carey and killian and merle's kids and it— it's not any better when i remember that i've done a really shitty job of it a couple times before."

"julia?" lup guesses.

it fucking _hurts_ — not to hear her name, but to hear it in this context. to say it and to have it confirmed. "yeah," he says, and his voice breaks, and he can feel his eyes start to burn again. "yeah, julia."

"oh, mags," lup says, and she winds both arms around his waist and holds him like that for a second, and then when he hiccups and his chest hitches with a quick breath, she reaches up and pulls his head down to her shoulder.

"it's okay," she says while he cries against her, and he feels so fucking stupid and big and awkward and wrong, but it's better than crying on barry in the middle of a busy street, maybe. it's better like this, a little bit, with someone who has purposely pulled him in to talk about this, who maybe knew that something like this was coming.

"it's okay," lup says again. "it's not okay how she went, but it's okay that it hurts you. it's okay that you miss her."

magnus reaches a hand up to scrub at his eyes and has to swallow hard through a rough lump of emotion in his throat. "i know that," he mumbles, even though it hurts to speak. "i just— i should've been there. i shouldn't have left. like i— i should've stopped you from going, or i should've realized what luce was doing, fisher was _my_ responsibility, and i—"

"shh," lup says, fingers in his hair, scratching gently against his scalp. "no, mags. nope. no one would've stopped me from going, i promise. you don't get to add me to your list of shit. that's not on you."

she leans her head against his, still holding him. "you know what i've learned recently, bud?" she says. "like, since getting my body back and remembering what it's like to be alive? cause and effect is literally never as straightforward and obvious as we want it to be. we want everything to be like, one thing happened, and that made another thing happen. we want it to be like, the light fell, so the hunger chases after it. but it was bigger than that, right? merle learned all that shit about the hunger, and all this other stuff that happened in this dude's life that led to him turning into what he was and why he was chasing after the light. like, there was a billion little things that built up into this one thing happening in the universe. and that's true with literally everything that has ever happened, like, ever."

she nuzzles so gently against his hair before going on. "no one could have stopped what happened," she says, "because there wasn't one thing that made luce do what she did. me and barry had this big idea, and she didn't like it, and she probably started planning the whole thing right then. and there were a hundred thousand horrible things that happened in the world, and that added to it, and then i was gone, and she was watching taako and barry try to deal with that, and she was watching you and dav and merle try to hold it together still, and like... okay, you were the bodyguard or the protector or what the fuck ever, but dav was the captain, right? and merle's basically everyone's shitty dad, and neither of them noticed what was going on, either. none of us could have stopped her. there's probably a hundred thousand things that happened before any of us even met her that led up to that decision.

"and that's just _one_ thing that's ever happened in the universe," lup says. "i know i'm not saying anything like, huge and groundbreaking, and this isn't gonna fix all your problems or suddenly make you feel better about everything shitty that's ever happened, but like... it helps me, sometimes. to remember that no matter how much i like to be in control of everything, i'm not. and there's a billion other things that affect the _one_ thing i wanna be in control of, and if it goes wrong... it's not that it's _not_ my fault, but maybe it's not like, _all_ my fault."

she kisses his hair, once, softly, and then pulls back slow, giving him a chance to grab onto her and pull her back in if he needs to, but he lets her go. she shifts her hold on him to let her hands come to rest on his shoulders and rubs gently over his coat with her thumbs. "you okay?" she asks quietly, and it's not— it isn't the big, deep question that it could be, that it maybe would be coming out of someone else's mouth. she's just asking about right now. she's just asking if he can breathe.

and he can, and he does — slowly and deep but a little shaky. he keeps his head ducked for another moment longer, rubbing the last of the wetness from his eyes before he nods, just once. "i—" he starts, and then has to clear his throat. "yeah. i'm... yeah."

"i know," lup says, still rubbing his shoulders. "it's a lot sometimes. it builds up."

he nods again and pinches hard in between his eyebrows with two fingers. "yeah," he says, gruff and raspy. "it's... it's not just luce. or julia. or— anything."

"i know," lup says again. "it's everything."

magnus forces himself to pick his head back up, and then pulls away from lup's hold so he can flop back into the snow and stare up at the sky. she joins him without a second thought, and even though he can feel the cold against his skin, his new jacket is working wonders, and he only has to suppress a single shiver before it adjusts and starts pumping out heat harder.

"i have a lot of nightmares," he says, watching the clouds slowly amble across the sky, breaking up as they go and ever so slightly starting to reveal the stars hidden behind them. "about everyone— like, dying. and stuff. or just... i don't know. being gone. and there's always— like, i always know that i was supposed to do something else, and i didn't, and that's why it happened."

lup reaches over and takes his hand again, but she says nothing.

"and i—" this part is harder to admit, and it sticks in his throat kind of rough like thick, bittersweet caramel, clogging his tongue and bogging him down for a second before he can swallow through it. "i have to check," he whispers. "i just have to make sure. like, that all the doors are locked and the windows are closed and everyone's tucked in, and... you know. everything."

lup's thumb brushes against his knuckles. "mmhm," she says. "dav used to do the same thing, you know. back on the starblaster."

"i know," magnus says. "so it— it felt okay at first. i was just... i'm just being safe, i'm just making sure, but then... there's no assassin hiding in the bushes, right? it's not... it's not normal to sit around thinking that someone might get struck by lightning and i have to make sure the house is warded against that or else it's my fault when someone dies because of it."

lup is quiet for a moment, and magnus almost thinks she isn't going to say anything, that she's just gonna let him keep going, but then, finally, after taking that long silence to think it over, she says, "i think that when the universe has thrown literally everything it has at you, it's normal to be scared of some things that aren't super likely. is it _good_ for you, though? i don't know."

"probably not when it's keeping you up all night," magnus says to the sky. the moon has finally made its appearance from behind the clouds, shining dimly down at them, only three-quarters full but round like it's going to burst.

"probably not," lup says. "but you know, mags? you don't have to deal with it on your own."

magnus breathes a long, warm breath into the cold air. he opens his mouth and confesses, "... i don't think i can, anymore."

lup squeezes his hand as tight as she can. "what do you need from us?"

"i don't know," he whispers. "i— before everyone got here, i thought— i thought it was just that it was too _quiet._ like, i got used to always having someone around, so i could just... like, i thought once everyone was here i'd sleep better, and it'd all go away, and it— it didn't. it got worse."

"happens sometimes when you try to hide it," lup murmurs. "you think it's getting better because no one's noticing, but... i think sometimes we want people to notice, even when we think we don't _._ "

"i don't know," magnus says again. "i just don't think i can be alone anymore."

"you're not, babe," lup says. "everyone's here for you. i don't just mean right now, i mean... all the time. all you have to do is call. i don't know carey real well, but it's pretty obvious she'd drop anything to help you as soon as you asked. and taako would, too, even if he's less obvious about it. he's like, real worried about you, bud."

"i know," magnus says. "i don't like it, but... i know. i just—"

"don't know how to ask?" lup guesses, and magnus shrugs into the snow. "yeah. i get that. but you can't let that stop you, bud. this shit will keep eating at you forever if something doesn't get done about it, right? i mean, you're taking a big step right now just by talking to me about it."

"but it doesn't change anything just to _talk_ about it," magnus says. "it's not gonna go away now. we're not gonna walk back up to the house and it's suddenly gonna stop bugging me."

"well, yeah," lup says. "but the next time you go to talk to someone about it, it's gonna be a lot easier, right?"

magnus closes his eyes. "i guess."

lup squeezes his hand again. "you don't have to keep doing it all alone," she says. "you don't have to _be_ alone. you don't have to sit out here by yourself forever, you know. it doesn't have to be just magnus alone in raven's roost. everyone else has got someone, why do you have to live out here without anyone else?"

"where else am i gonna go?" magnus asks. "raven's roost needs me. i owe it to them."

"oh, come on," lup says. "why? because some bad stuff happened here? bad stuff happened everywhere, mags. anywhere you go, you're gonna find someone whose life we affected. every single town in this world got hit by the relics or by the hunger. there's shit to rebuild and fix everywhere we go. lucretia'd probably appreciate some of your help, to be honest."

"this is—" magnus says, then has to pause for a second. "this is _home._ " raven's roost is where julia is — where she was. their house isn't here anymore, and the gazebo is gone, and city square where they met will never look like it did on that day ever again, but— this is where their life was. this is where he should have come home to her, and where he'll keep coming home to her forever, until he can't do that anymore, and then he'll come home to her somewhere else, some plane else.

"okay," lup says. "but it doesn't have to be."

she sits up then, and there's snow stuck in her hair but she doesn't seem to notice or mind. she looks down at magnus, still holding his hand, and says, "this is gonna seem insensitive at first, but i promise it's not, okay? you have memories here. i know that. and they're really important memories and they mean a lot to you. but mags, this place is never gonna be the place it was before, when it was really home. you didn't even know who you were then. i get that this probably seemed like the place to come back to when everything was over, but none of the people or places or things that made this place home are still here, man. and honestly? it seems to me like being here is making things kind of worse for you."

magnus stares up at her. "i'm waiting for the part where this doesn't suck to listen to," he says.

"i'm getting there," lup tells him. "look, all the memories you have of this place don't go away just because you don't stay here. and this town has a really good community now. there's people here who care about building business and getting people homes and starting over and shit. you don't have to have a nail in every single family's house, you don't have to be best friends with every new person who wanders into town. you did your part, okay? the fact that there was even a legacy of this town that someone wanted to rebuild comes back to you."

she looks away from his face and picks up his hand, placing it in her lap and rubbing it between her own. "and if you leave," she says, "all the memories you have go with you. every moment you had with julia goes with you. she doesn't disappear because you don't live here anymore. you don't have to build a shrine to her with bedrooms and a kitchen and knick knacks and shit just so you can make sure you never forget her. you're not _going_ to."

"then where the hell do i go?" magnus asks. "if i'm not here, if i'm not helping the people here, then—"

"dude," lup says. "there's a hundred cities across this world that need help. and you don't need to jump into something right now, either. you're allowed to take a break first. you know you and luce are the only ones who jumped right into trying to fix the world, right? i mean, me and taako are pretty fucked up, but even we took some time off before we got back to work and shit."

"i can't just _ignore_ everyone who needs help so i can go take a spa weekend," magnus says.

"okay, well, good news," lup says. "there's this whole thing called the bureau of benevolence that's trying to help people, and they've got some pretty good people on retainer who could probably do some good while you take a weekend to like, fucking take a nap. go stay with taako and krav for a while. go see neverwinter at new years. spend a week with carey and killian. take angus to the zoo, i don't know. there's a whole fucking world out there, mags, and all you've really seen is the bad stuff."

"that's not... that's not really true," magnus says. "there's been good stuff mixed in there, too."

"okay," lup says. "fair enough. so how about you go see some good stuff just for the sake of seeing good stuff? maybe spend some of that time talking to your family about the shit you're struggling with and let them help you through it a little bit. then go back to helping people, and you can decide _then_ if this is where you wanna be."

magnus can't come up with a reply to that fast enough, so lup beats him to the punch and says, "you gotta remember it's not just you, magnus. you're not the only one trying to fix things. you're not the only one who fucked up, either. we're all trying to put some good back into the world. and if you take a week to focus on yourself, someone else is gonna step in and help out in your place. it's not all gonna fall down because you weren't there to hold it up. it's gonna be _okay._ "

that's— well, it's fair. someone else will learn how to build houses. someone else will make sure eleanor and all her workers are getting paid. someone else will encourage shy young apprentices to step up and take on bigger work.

so why does it still feel wrong to step away?

"hey," lup says. "you don't need to have it figured out right now. i'm not even saying you've gotta start tomorrow morning. just... think about it. it'll still be an option in a week. but if it's getting bad enough that you're finally willing to talk about it, that might be a sign it's time to do something about it, yeah?"

"... yeah," magnus says. they let that hang in the air between them for a little, just breathing and staying warm in their coats, and then magnus says, "you know, i meant it when i said we never hung out enough."

lup laughs then, and she leans down and plants a big, wet kiss on his forehead. "you're such a fucking doofus," she says. "you're welcome."

magnus smiles then, and it doesn't feel weak or forced or watery — it feels real, and strong, and he feels a little lighter than he did before. "we should probably get back, huh?"

"probably," lup agrees. "before bare sends out a search team, yeah."

she stands up then, and helps pull magnus to his feet. he's helping her brush the snow out of her hair and giving his own the same treatment when she giggles a little and pats him on the arm to get his attention and points down at their lingering silhouettes in the snow, outlines of their bodies against the stacks of white on either side.

"hey look," lup says. "snow trans people."

* * *

he's not sure what he expects to come back to — tension or palpable relief; desperate, fearsome worry or anger or joy. but as it has been every other time he's returned to his family, it happens with little fanfare or dramatics. instead, he just sees carey and taako simultaneously relax against their partner's sides, having barely moved from the spots where they were before, and carey reaches out a hand toward magnus to call him towards her.

he crosses the room silently and obediently, not willing to make her worry any more than he already has, and to be honest— he feels a little better, now. it's a little easier to sit down and lean against her while she leans against killian and just... breathe.

across the room, lup flops into barry's lap. he's moved to the floor, and he's got taako's book open on the coffee table in front of him, but he immediately abandons it when he has lup within reach again. and just because magnus is watching, and because he knows to look for it now, he can see the way the tension drains from barry's shoulders a little, arms wrapped around lup's waist and face turned into her hair and his eyes closed.

"hey, bare," lup says, so quietly that magnus wouldn't hear it if he wasn't listening for it over the casual conversation that davenport and lucretia and merle are having off to the side, where they're pretending nothing is going on.

"hey," barry says back, and that's all that passes between them.

"you good?" carey asks magnus then. it occurs to him suddenly as he tangles their fingers together that he spends an awful lot of time holding girls' hands lately, but carey doesn't pull away.

he thinks it over, trying to decide how to answer, and he could just leave it with silence, he supposes. carey would get that, she would understand what that means, but he owes her something more than that, he thinks. "i've been better," he says quietly. "but not too bad right now."

carey squeezes his hand and lets go of killian to lean over and pull him into a tight hug, just quick and fierce and necessary. when she pulls back, she lets go of his hand as well and leans back into killian again, and then says, louder, "liked your knife that much, huh?"

he laughs and gives her a playful elbow in the ribcage. "it's not quite as flashy as the one barry and lup got me," he says. "you're gonna have to try harder to win the knife game, care."

carey snorts. "yeah, but their knife doesn't have a cool screwdriver, so like... big deal."

magnus laughs again, and when he looks over, lup is looking back and she’s smiling, barry still holding onto her while tugging at the ribbon holding her hair in its braid. he combs his fingers through the ends and lup rests in his lap, looking happy and healthy and whole. and taako is on the couch with his legs across kravitz's lap, head cushioned on his partner’s shoulder. and there’s a hand resting thoughtlessly in angus's hair while he reads one of the rarer caleb cleveland novels he got for candlenights, and taako's eyes flit back and forth between lup and magnus, but he's relaxed with kravitz’s hand on him. and he's _safe_. they’re all safe.

and across the room, merle and lucretia are having a rather in depth conversation about accounting and the business side of business. davenport chips in every now and then, and merle will occasionally glance over to make sure his kids are still there and still okay and taken care of, and they are. and lucretia laughs quietly at something merle said, and davenport sips at a mug of something alcoholic, looking comfortable and happy, and they're all safe, too.

and carey's starting to look tired and so is killian, but they're also safe, and magnus might have scared everyone, but they're all— they're all happy. everyone is safe. and he can be happy and safe, too.

and magnus says, "oh, shit."

"watch the language in front of the kids," taako says, lazily but with eyes sharp and attentive on him. "what's up?"

magnus scrambles up to his feet and across the room to the small box he left full of his work before dinner. he quickly throws open the box and retrieves the cloth bag inside, the contents of which are rattling against each other as he hurries back over to everyone and pulls the bag open.

"um," he says, suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the fact that everyone's eyes are on him now. "i, uh. i didn't really plan out shopping great, but i— i wanted to thank everyone for coming, and being here, and just... i don't know. staying alive and making it this far. uh, i'm not great at speeches."

"yeah, bud, we know," taako says. "get to the point."

"okay," magnus says. "well, uh. these aren't my best work, but i thought about all of you while i was making them, so. it's the thought that counts?"

"we've been over this, my man," taako says. "it absolutely is not."

"if you interrupt him one more time, i'm gonna put a fireball up your ass," lup says over her shoulder in taako's direction. he sticks his tongue out at her in retaliation.

magnus laughs, once and awkwardly, and then tugs the bag open the rest of the way. "um, well. anyway. these are for you guys."

and then he starts handing them out, and— well, there's no way it wouldn't be awkward, is there? it's personal and weird, but he starts with carey because he knows she won't make fun of him — not for this at least. he cheated a little, with the various couples scattered across his den, but it means something to him, and he thinks it'll mean something to them, too.

all of the pieces are simplistic and inelegant, more of a series of features carved into small hunks of wood than anything else. taako and kravitz had the easiest ones — theirs interlock, sliding together to sit as one piece. taako's half has a wily little mongoose carved into one side, lithe and grinning, and on the other side is a wolf, teeth bared and hackles raised, ready to attack. and kravitz has a skull on one side and a cat on the other, both with the same, quiet smile. taako slides close to kravitz and plays with them, a quiet, thoughtful look on his face.

lup and barry were easy, too, though he had to get a little more abstract — theirs match almost perfectly, though they don't interlock like taako and kravitz's. both of them feature one side carved into harsh flames, and the other side a simple horizon with a single boulder standing out against the background. it's earth and fire, opposites in some ways, but working together in others, and on lup's there is a single twinkling star hanging over that open landscape, and on barry's there's another, but burning fiercely in the middle of the flames.

they're representations, really, and it's a bit embarrassing. they all know how last minute this was, how he worked on this all last night and today, and he can see it in his work — but it's embarrassing in another way, too, because he's put a lot of himself in this. he's baring a part of his mind, a part of how he _thinks_ to them, how he sees them. like merle: in some ways he's a towering, ancient tree, gnarled roots and hundreds of years of wisdom and experience shading the ground beneath him, but in other ways he's also a single flower, pushing through the earth and just beginning to bloom.

and davenport is the sky, and the clouds, and the stars above them and the freedom of the wind and the world far below, but he's also the ocean, with its churning waters and the life hiding just below the surface, a world of danger and discovery and solitude. carey _is_ the dragon inside her, roaring with flame just clenched behind its teeth, but she's also an excitable puppy, tongue lolling out and grinning. killian is a tall, proud horse, muscles churning with the strain of endurance and hard work, but she's also a pair of arms, wrapped tight in a safe, loving hug.

he doesn't know mookie and mavis as well, but mookie is easy to appease — magnus has a comical little ghost on one side and a fairy tale-esque dragon on the other, and mookie is absolutely delighted that someone else is interested in the concept of a ghost dragon. mavis was harder, but magnus can guess at the things she values, even at this young age, so the trinket he's presented her with has a book on one side, and three stick figures holding hands on the other, one of them just a little bit taller than the others.

angus is at a weird time in his life, in terms of both physical and emotional growth, but magnus also feels like this will apply to him ten, fifteen, twenty years from now, because magnus knows what it's like to feel four feet and ten feet tall at the same time. so on one side he’s got a small boy with a wand in his hand, and on the other side he’s got a taller man with a magnifying glass. and lucretia—

he's reaching a little bit, here, and hers is a little different. he's pushing her a little, he knows, but he watches her run her fingers over the single figure carved into the one side, tall and proud but not incredibly detailed, and then turn it over slowly and study the _intricate_ detail there, the several figures packed into a small space, all of them a bit smaller than the figure to their backs, but tight together and stronger for it.

he feels horribly uncomfortable watching them all look over their gifts, and he sits down quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "um," he says, though no one looks up at him. "it's— i know it's nothing like, amazing, but it, um. you know. decoration. or something. knick knacks."

"magnus," carey says, and looks up at him. "shut up. you're such a dork."

"i should've started shopping earlier," magnus admits. "or working, i guess. next year i'll have something better—"

" _magnus,_ " killian says. "shut _up._ "

"it's just none of them are very detailed," magnus says. "it's really not my best work, and i had to kind of rush some of the concepts, so it's— i mean, i'm not an artist or anything anyway, but i thought, uh. it would be— i thought it—"

and suddenly he has the eyes of every adult in the room on him, and they're all fixing him with very serious stares, and then a chorus of voices tells him, "magnus, _shut up._ "

"you did good, bud," taako says, and silence falls.

and then mookie says, "look dad, mine has a dragon!"

* * *

it's the kind of night that's good for drinking, so after the gifts have been tucked away into haphazard but out of the way piles, magnus goes into the kitchen and breaks out some hard cider and drags down all the nice mugs he can find and carefully carries it all out to the den. everyone's in a strange, quiet mood now, but they're smiling and warm and comfortable and happy, and when the first warm burn hits his stomach, magnus kind of starts to get back on that train, too.

davenport starts to tell more stories of their travels, but then passes the reins off to lucretia when it becomes clear that the cider may be impairing his storytelling ability just a bit. lucretia is not impeded even an ounce by her inebriation, and she tells the stories with a flair of drama that magnus hasn't seen from her since they first joined the bureau.

carey and killian end up deciding to stay when it starts to look like walking back down the mountain may not be the safest activity for them to enjoy tonight, and magnus drags down some extra blankets and everyone sets up their beds a little early, if only so that when they start to drop off, they won't have to walk far.

even taako and kravitz and barry and lup end up deciding to sleep in the den as well, and soon they've got a big pile of blankets stretched out across most of the room. magnus and carey move the coffee table out of the way and everyone flops down on the massive, makeshift bed and magnus pours them all another round.

"y'know what this reminds me of?" lup says as she reaches across barry to take her newly refilled mug back from magnus. "that— d'you guys remember that year where the starble— star— where the ship— it was really fucking cold."

"the heating unit was blown out for two weeks," davenport bemoans, like it's a blow the ship has taken today and not some sixty years ago.

"yeah," lup says, leaning back against barry and taking another big sip from her mug. "and all the bedrooms were like, real fuckin' cold, and we had to— we had to sleep in the kitchen, 'cause it was like, in the middle, and we were all like on top of each other, and mags almost fuckin' suffocated everyone to death."

she breaks off then and giggles, and glances up at barry with a devious kind of look in her eyes and says, "and bare like, insisted on sleeping at the opposite end of the room from me?"

and barry shocks them all by not blushing even a bit beyond the little flush he's got from the alcohol. and then he shocks them _further_ by leaning in and planting a kiss on lup's lips and saying, "and now i share a bed with you every night."

lup grins even wider and says, "that's character development, babe." then she grabs him by the chin and drags him in for another kiss.

taako moans loudly from where he and kravitz are laying, his head pillowed on kravitz's chest and one leg thrown over his lover’s. "you're disgusting," he yells, even though he's got his back turned and can't see. "please get a room. just don't— leave poor magnus's bed alone."

barry still doesn't blush. in fact, he hops up to his feet very nimbly and reaches down to take lup's hands and help her to her feet as well. "do you wanna go somewhere and talk?" he asks her, and starts tugging her toward the door.

and then taako and magnus and lucretia and davenport and merle all look over very sharply — because those are very familiar words and that was a very special world for all of them, but just like back then, barry and lup's attention is focused solely on each other.

"hm," lup says. "let me get my boots."

"don't fall off any cliffs!" taako shouts at them as they head out the door, and then huffs and drops his head heavily back onto kravitz's chest. "you better hurry up," he grumbles. "or i'll do it myself. i will not fall behind."

"i'm sure i have no idea what you're talking about, love," kravitz tells him. taako says something unintelligible into his chest.

magnus sends out a quiet little prayer of strength and good luck for barry, and then leans back against the couch and sips his cider, head resting back and staring up at the ceiling. it's late. there's just a small amount of moonlight spilling into the den through the front windows, and the fire is starting to burn low, but magnus doesn't quite trust himself to stir the flames back up in his current state. he's not drunk, but he's got enough in him that the world tilts a little every time he stands up, and everything is just a little bit hazy and distant and out of reach.

everyone is starting to settle in, and thankfully they have the good sense to set the mugs and the rest of the cider well out of reach of potentially kicking feet in the middle of the night, but then everyone starts to lie down, settling into the blankets and piled pillows and murmuring quietly to each other. at some point, kravitz starts to hum a song — it's nothing that magnus has ever heard, but it's just familiar enough that he can almost predict where it will go.

and it doesn't seem to end, not for a very long time. kravitz never completely moves from humming to singing, but he has a very nice voice for it. he rises and falls comfortably through verse and chorus and bridge, and takes it all back together at the end for a soft, calming series of notes that leave magnus feeling even more distant and peaceful than the cider.

"stupid bard," taako mumbles, so quiet and muffled that magnus almost can't make it out. "c'mere, i'm cold."

"i'm afraid i won't be much help with that, dear," kravitz says, but magnus can hear shifting of blankets and bodies at the other end of the room.

"stop flirting," killian says, off to magnus's right. "it's bedtime."

magnus rolls onto his side and smiles into his pillow. he can hear carey laughing quietly next to him, and the huffs of laughter around him. the urge to throw an arm over carey's middle and pull her close is almost irresistible, but he holds himself back if only because her wife is right there, and after a few moments the two of them end up curling a little closer to each other.

but lucretia is on his other side, so he rolls over again and scoots a little closer to her, laying a hand on her shoulder as he moves. he whispers quietly, "is this okay?"

she makes a quiet noise and turns onto her back, letting him lay his arm over her and hold her. it feels so _good,_ to have someone close like that and to know that he can keep her safe and warm and take care of her and she'll be happy and comfortable. "goodnight, magnus," she mumbles.

"night, luce," he mumbles back, and he kisses her hair and leans his forehead against the side of her head. she sighs quietly and leans into his embrace. everything is good.

and magnus falls asleep — it takes a while, and he has to spend a long time just letting himself get wrapped up in the feeling of holding lucretia close and listening to her breathing, until the movement of her ribs and the quiet sounds of everyone else around them finally lulls him to sleep. but then, finally, when the room is dark and everyone is quiet and sleeping, magnus drops off too, and the world fades around him.

he dreams, too, but it's... it's different. he opens his eyes in the dream and he knows from the second that he does that it's not real, and he knows he's asleep, but there's nothing particularly off about the whole thing. he's lying on the floor of his house, and everyone is asleep around him, and they're breathing quiet and slow, and it's the exact scenario in which he just fell asleep — and he's _still_ asleep, but he's not.

someone clears their throat above him — not any of his assembled family, and every nerve in his body springs to life, sending him shooting upwards. lup and barry's knife is in his hands before he can even process calling for it, and he gets to his knees and whips around—

but it's— it isn't possible.

"hey, babe," julia says. a tiny little smile crosses her face. her hair is long and wavy and beautiful like she always talked about keeping it, but could never go through with because there was always something new and something bigger and she needed to keep it close cropped or shorter.

"j-jules?" magnus whispers, and his voice breaks horribly. "i— this isn't real."

"not quite, no," she says. she's perched on the back of the couch, and angus and mavis are asleep beneath her, not even stirring a little.

"then—" magnus feels the breath rush out of his chest. "i'm dreaming, right? so you— you're not... here. it's not, like..."

"it's whatever you want it to be, maggie," julia says. "let's go for a walk."

he gets up, and so does she, and when she reaches him and she puts her hand in his, it's warm and _alive,_ like lup's, like carey's, like lucretia's. she leads him outside, but he doesn't feel the cold.

"how you doin', love?" she asks, just a little of that twang he missed so much in her voice, and they amble down the path in the snow out to the road. "you seem tired," she says.

he laughs, desperate and breathy and shocked. "well," he says. "you did catch me in the middle of the night, while i was asleep."

"oh, he's hilarious," julia teases, and she elbows him in the side. "i missed that wit so bad, damn."

he lets go of her hand and throws an arm around her shoulders — just because he can, because it feels real and right and safe. he leans in and tries to smell her hair — but he can't. there's no scent that follows it, and he has to close his eyes tight and stop walking for a second as the physical pain of remembering comes back. "you're not real," he whispers.

"still here, aren't i?" she says. he can feel her against his side, and he can hear her voice, and when he opens his eyes he can see her, but he can't _smell_ her. she's a figment of his imagination, but he should be able to remember what she smells like, it wasn't _that_ long ago, but— but he can't. he fucking can't.

"what's the point of this?" he asks. "you're not— this wasn't like, kravitz pulling a favor, or some god, or something. no one brought you back. it's just... it's just a bad dream."

"not every dream has to be bad, babe," julia tells him. "sometimes a dream is just a dream. whether i'm real or not, i'm here."

"but you're _not,_ " he whispers. he opens his eyes, and they're standing on the gazebo, sturdy and standing like the day they were married. it's still dark, and it's still snowing, and he's still in his pajamas, and the wind winds slowly around them, but he can't feel the cold, because it's not fucking real.

she's standing across from him now, and she takes his hands and then slides her grip up to his triceps so she can pull him close to her. "yes i am, mags," she says. "i always am."

"this is a _dream,_ " he says again. "it's in my head."

"okay," she says. "and so is every memory you have of us. those don't stop being real because you can't touch them. i'm here, maggie. magnus. my love, my everything. i'm always here. i'm always with you."

"that doesn't mean anything," he says. "you're still— jules, you..."

he can't say anything else. he doesn't know what to say. the words won't come.

she leans in and kisses him, and he keeps his eyes open, so he can see it, but he feels nothing. there's no sensation against his lips, only a sinking feeling in his stomach. when she pulls back, she's smiling like she's given him all the wisdom in the world. "you'll be okay," she tells him. "that's all i want for you. i just want you to be okay."

he holds his breath so he won't say, _then don't go,_ because it won't matter. it's a dream.

"i love you," she tells him.

"i love _you_ ," he whispers, because he can't _not_ say it back.

"you'll be okay," she says again.

the front door closes, so softly, but just loud enough that he could never miss it, and he jolts awake, eyes shooting open just in time to just barely make out lup and barry through the darkness. lup laughs quietly and leans in and kisses barry on the forehead, and then they tiptoe their way across the room and toward magnus's bedroom to change into something more comfortable for sleeping.

no one else is awake. the room is quiet and magnus is alone and staring into the darkness around him, his arm still wrapped around lucretia and carey pressed tight up against his back. eventually, lup and barry come back into the den and settle down for bed next to taako and kravitz, and their quiet whispers dip off and go silent eventually, and then it's just magnus again.

it should mean something, he thinks. there should be something bigger. there should be some god or spirit out there that wants him to learn something from that dream — she should have come to him and given him the secrets to the world. or else it should have just been a normal fucking nightmare, not this stuff that he feels like he needs to lay here and decode.

but it doesn't mean anything, does it? it's just a dream. her spirit didn't come to him, he just fell asleep and he dreamt of the woman he loved and loves and will always love, and she told him she loved him because _of course_ that's what his mind wants to feed him. she didn't impart some secret wisdom, she didn't cure him of whatever fucked up stuff is going on his brain, she just... she told him she loves him. she told he'll be okay.

he feels so weak, and so small and stupid and insignificant, laying there in the dark surrounded by his family and missing the one single person in the world that he can't possibly ever have back, the one person he couldn't invite to the holiday. he closes his eyes and tries to let lucretia's breathing carry him off again, but sleep doesn't come. hearing julia's voice, _remembering_ it in such lifelike detail like that— it fucking hurts more than anything else that's hurt him in a long while.

he cries, and it comes to him slowly. it starts as a pit in his stomach, growing and tugging at him until he can't hold it back anymore and the smallest little noise escapes him. it's more a huff of breath than a sob, and there's no real volume to it, but he still does all he can to muffle it, and he holds onto lucretia as tight as he dares without waking her.

it just— none of it fucking means anything. it hurts and it hurts and every time he thinks something might be _better,_ it just fucking hurts again. he goes to sleep and in his dreams he's alone, and when he wakes up, ultimately he's all alone again, and he can't escape it. he's always alone. he's always going to _be_ alone.

except—

there's a little part of his brain, niggling at him, poking at him. there's a little voice, like carey's, like lup's, like julia's, that says, _you don't have to be._ it says, _you can tell them, and they'll be there._

and they will, won't they? they're not going to push him away. they're not going to tell him he needs to be stronger, he needs to be bigger and better and he needs to take care of it himself. they've all been begging him to reach out and tell them the truth, they've been pleading with him from day one to just _talk_ to them, and they'll be there for him and they'll _help._

he rolls onto his back, and he stares up at the ceiling and tries to stop crying. it takes a long time, but finally he manages to get it a little more under control, and he closes his eyes and breathes long and deep and slow.

he's scared. he doesn't want to ask for help. he doesn't want to need help. he doesn't want to look weak, feel weak, be weak.

but it fucking hurts, so fucking bad, and he doesn't think he can do this anymore.

he turns his head to the right, and he hesitates when he reaches out his hand, but he makes himself go through with it. he forces his muscles and his bones to work together and he reaches out and shakes gently and whispers, "carey."

she makes a quiet noise — not quite one of disgruntlement or anger, just discomfort at being awoken.

"hey," he whispers. "i—" and the words catch in his throat.

she lifts her head slowly and looks over her shoulder, blinking at him blearily. "wassup?" she mumbles.

"i—" he starts to say again... and he can't.

she stares at him for a long moment, trying to process everything, and then finally she closes her eyes and rolls onto her back and rubs her face a little. she stretches carefully to avoid hitting killian, and then she sits up and reaches to pat magnus's knee. "okay," she says. "come on. get your coat."

the smile she gives him is the smallest and softest that he's ever seen on her face, and it means— it means literally everything.

* * *

the sun rises over the quintessential candlenights morning — fresh, packed snow on the ground, bright white with a snap in the air holding off the inevitable melting, a slow breeze rolling clouds through the gradually lightening sky, and magnus on the porch, staring out over it all.

carey comes back outside with a steaming mug and hands it to him, coming to settle next to him on the steps. "hot," she warns him.

"thanks," he mumbles, and sips his coffee quietly and contemplatively. he leans his head against carey's shoulder and breathes — in, out, in.

carey tips her head against his. "pretty day," she murmurs.

"mmm," magnus agrees.

carey reaches over and puts her hand on his knee, massaging gently. "feeling better?" she asks, gentle and soft in a way that she, as a rule, is not.

"i think so," he says. he wraps his fingers tight around his mug. "for now, yeah. i think."

"all i can ask for," she murmurs. she gives his knee another pat and then sips from her own mug.

for a long while, they sit on the porch together, staring out over the snow and watching the sun rise over the cliffs and slowly start to beat down on them. its warmth is refreshing and healing against the crisp snap of the air. it really is the perfect candlenights day.

eventually, they start to hear stirring inside the house, but neither of them moves. magnus closes his eyes and leaves his head on carey's shoulder. it should make him feel vulnerable, he thinks, to allow anyone to find them outside like this — any of their family will be able to put the pieces together, he thinks, and yet he can't quite bring himself to run away and hide this time. whoever comes out and finds them here — it'll be fine. he feels strangely invulnerable right now, as much as the opposite is also true.

of course, it's killian who does eventually come looking for them. she's still in pajamas as well, but she's got a blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders as she stumbles outside and drops onto the step next to carey. she looks bleary and still half asleep, but she leans over and plants an easy and practiced kiss on carey's mouth, and then pulls her mug from her hands to drink from it.

a second later, she grimaces, and spits into the snow. "that's fucking disgusting," she informs her wife in a grumble.

"you're too sweet for my tastes, babe," carey says, low and teasing, and magnus doesn't need to look to know that killian is rolling her eyes in disgust.

"i don't understand you," killian says. she leans forward a little, peeking around carey to peer at magnus. "doin' okay, bud?"

magnus opens his mouth — and then realizes he doesn't know how to answer that. he doesn't have that impulse to lie right now, not with a long conversation with carey still fresh in his mind, but he's not really ready to start talking to _everyone,_ and he doesn't know if he ever will be. instead, he just shrugs and offers her a smile.

carey reaches up with her free hand to pat the side of his face, which is both patronizing and strangely comforting. "long night," she tells killian. "what's the deal with breakfast?"

"no clue," killian says. "taako says he's waiting for lup to get up, and lup's pretending to be asleep so she can keep cuddling barry, i think."

"yeah, what's the deal with that?" carey says, glancing down at magnus. "you know them better than us, what was up with that weird look from everyone last night?"

magnus hesitates. "um," he says. he doesn't want to hand out information that lup and barry haven't handed out themselves, especially if he's not one hundred percent sure about what went on during that conversation. "i don't know if i should say. but it's good news, i'm pretty sure."

"hm," carey says. "well, it's getting in the way of breakfast."

magnus sits up then, fixing his hair and taking another quick sip of coffee. "i'll get it," he says. "let them rest, they've had two days of huge dinners to do, i can get this one."

carey gives him a skeptical look, but shrugs and pats him on the knee one more time. "all right, bud," she says. "but it's your funeral when you use all their ingredients and get chewed out."

"i think i'll be okay," magnus says. he bumps his shoulder against hers before he gets to his feet and heads back inside.

nearly everyone is awake at his point, with the exception of barry and merle. lup is absolutely feigning unconsciousness, but she's also completely unashamed of how obvious that fact is, completely ignoring taako's whining in favor of curling around barry, who is tucked into the tightest ball possible.

no one pays magnus much attention as he heads for the kitchen — or at least, no one is particularly obvious about it. taako does glance his way, but he doesn't comment or try to draw any sort of information from him, and lucretia just offers him a small smile as he passes her. the rest of the group is more occupied with their own waking up routines — which is kind of a nice reminder, magnus thinks, that maybe people aren't _supremely_ interested in what's going on with everyone else all the time.

his culinary skills are far from polished or perfect, and he doesn't want to repeat meals, but he's got enough knowledge and practice to put together a decent stack of toast and eggs and sizzling sausage and bacon. he spends about five minutes playing with the idea of french toast, but there's a little too much room for critique from the twins in that particular area, so he lets it go quickly in favor of something a little simpler.

that being said, the smell of cooking food does eventually draw taako into the kitchen, peering over his work and sniffing deeply. "hm," he says. "interesting."

magnus gives him an elbow in the ribs. "you can just tell me what you'd do differently," he says. "you know i'm not gonna figure it out from how long you spend _sniffing._ "

taako sticks his tongue out at him and crosses his arms over his chest. he's wearing a fluffy bath robe, looking supremely comfy and warm. "it's nothing," he says loftily. "don't worry about it."

"all right," magnus says easily. "i won't, then, and you can go sit down at the table instead of backseat cooking."

taako _hmphs_ loudly and glares at him, but doesn't budge an inch. "what's got you in such high spirits?" he asks. "thought you weren't talking to anyone."

magnus could just roll with that punch, he thinks, but— well, as much as it stings, it's not untrue. taako's not being _rude,_ exactly, just... not particularly helpful.

"i had a weird night," magnus says, instead of poking and prodding at an argument.

taako is quiet for a second, but still he doesn't move from his spot. "oh," he says. "well. you okay?"

magnus thinks about it for a second, and then shrugs. "yeah," he says finally. "i think so. mostly."

"that—" taako stops, shifts his arms and his stance a little. "that's good," he says. "do you—"

magnus cuts him off before either of them can get stuck in that pit. "we don't have to talk about it," he says. "i talked to carey. i'm fine."

"oh," taako says. "well that's— i mean, good. and you're good?"

magnus could point out that he already asked that question, but they're both a little out of their depth, talking about _feelings_ and things like that with each other. and it's candlenights, and taako probably hasn't yet fully dealt with the fact that his sister probably got engaged last night, so magnus decides to let it slide.

but what he should say is, _yeah, taako, i'm good._ that's not what he does say.

what he does say is, "i mean, as good as i can be right now," and the look taako gives him is piercing and heavy and serious, and magnus offers him a little smile and bumps their shoulders together heavy enough to make taako stumble a step to the side.

"i'm fine," magnus promises, which is a much easier thing to say, and a much more familiar one, too. but it's not all that he _needs_ to say, so he turns his eyes back to the stove and pokes at the sausages and says, "things aren't perfect."

"hard to be perfect when you're not me," taako says, and it's nonchalant and practiced, but it's a little vulnerable, too. it's a response he throws out in self-defense, not because he needs to win an argument or even because he really believes it — it's something to say because magnus has thrown him so far off his game that he needs to rebalance himself a little.

"i'll give you that," magnus says, just to throw him off a little more. it's easier to talk when he's not looking at him, even if he can still feel taako's gaze heavy and intense on him. "but i'm gonna try to start fixing some stuff."

taako shifts again, seeming to wrestle with something for a moment, and then he says, "hard to _fix_ shit that isn't broken."

magnus smiles down at the food, because that's about the closest to a compliment he's gonna get. "thanks, taako," he says. "but it is. at least a little bit."

taako grabs him by the arm then, and pulls just hard enough and sudden enough that magnus turns to look at him, more out of surprise than any actual force. taako stares him in the eyes, and the look on his face is the kind that magnus more associates with the middle of particularly intense combat than any sort of verbal sparring. "magnus," he says, which is also a little jarring. "shut up and listen to me. there's nothing broken in you."

magnus can't look away from that expression in taako's eyes. "i—"

"no, i said shut up," taako says, and grips his arm a little tighter. "if you need help, whatever. that doesn't— it doesn't make you broken, or whatever. needing help just means— it just means needing help."

it's not like taako to trip over his words so much like that, and the sentiment— well, magnus understands. he lets go of the spatula in his hand and turns fully to face taako and pulls him in sudden and hard against his chest, wrapping his arms all the way around him as tight as he can.

“i’ll try to keep that in mind,” he mumbles next to taako’s ear, “but you’re never allowed to call me a hypocrite ever again.”

taako huffs, but magnus can feel his arms coming up to wrap around him in return. “whatever,” he mumbles. “just shut up and take care of yourself for once.”

“okay,” magnus says. “you’re _definitely_ never allowed to call me a hypocrite ever again.”

“you’re gonna burn the fucking sausage,” taako says. but he doesn’t let go, and in the end magnus has to trash the sausage and make extra bacon.

* * *

magnus lends carey and killian clean clothes, and the third day of candlenights progresses about as expected — lots of food, lots of toying with new gifts, lots of old stories that have started to lose meaning after sixty or so years, and an absolutely unnecessary amount of alcohol. magnus— well, magnus does his best, tries his absolute hardest not to hold himself back, not to stand at a distance from his family, and he thinks he succeeds.

he earns a few strange looks at first, some general skepticism at his suddenly improved mood, but it's fucking _candlenights._ as awkward as it is at first, he throws himself into it as hard as he can, trying to tap into that pit that he's spent the last week or so shoving down deep inside of him so he can keep them safe, and he lets free the waves of joy and relief at having them near.

he sweeps mookie into a snowball fight, but when the boy tires they turn to building snow versions of their family outside. they don't get very far — there's a few too many, and mookie is easily distractible, but they do end up with a decent collection of snowpeople out in the yard. he, killian, carey, and davenport resort to practicing with their new gift knives once mookie finally tuckers out, tossing them into the trunk of the oak tree and critiquing each other, and eventually devolving into a game of dodging carey's pinpoint tosses.

later in the day, sliding into afternoon, magnus settles back inside and tries to warm up with more hot cider, and he throws an arm around lucretia's shoulders as she rereads taako's book and sips her own drink. eventually, everyone ends up back in the den from their various daytime activities and start swapping fight stories, which devolves into more rehashing of old starblaster stories. magnus lends his voice this time instead of just listening, and from the looks he gets from his family, it's maybe starting to be a welcomed change.

eventually, the twins disappear into the kitchen and some absolutely delightful smells slowly start to wisp out into the den. dinner comes and goes and is no less warming or delicious than the last two days, and magnus is left full to bursting. but he dives in first to the dishes with barry's help, while lup and taako bicker over the correct way to serve the six pies they've prepared for dessert.

eventually they either solve the issue or decide it's not worth fighting over and just levitate them out to the den, where everyone is gathered waiting around the coffee table, and magnus and barry are left alone in the kitchen. magnus glances over his shoulder and watches them go, and then bumps an elbow into barry's ribs.

"what?" barry asks, glancing over at the pot in magnus's hands. "did i miss a spot?"

"she said yes?" magnus asks, and is gifted the wonderful, perfect sight of barry's entire face going bright red.

"i— that—" he splutters for a moment, and then quickly turns his gaze away from magnus and fixes a glare at the plate in his hands, scrubbing just a touch more fiercely than is necessary. "i just did what you said and gave it a shot."

"and judging by the amount of cuddling, i'd say it worked," magnus says.

barry hesitates for a second, biting the inside of his cheek, and then he smiles, just a little, and shrugs. "anxiety can be pretty stupid, huh?" he mumbles.

magnus looks down and starts drying at a speed and force that matches barry's a little more closely. "sometimes, yeah," he murmurs back.

"i—" barry sighs, and he gives up washing then and braces his forearms against the counter as the plate sinks back into the suds. "gods, mags, i know— i know everyone knows this, but i love her so _fucking_ much."

magnus sets his towel and the dish in his hands on the counter and reaches over to rub barry's shoulder. "yeah, man," he says, as gentle as he can, because he _does._ he knows. he knows how she made the stars shine, how she made the clouds part and the sun rise. he knows how she made things taste a little more real and how she gave words new meanings and how she made the earth spin a little slower. "i know," he says, because he does.

"and i'm gonna _marry_ her," barry whispers, like he can't make his voice get any louder than that, and when magnus glances over at him, there's a little shine in his eyes that isn't just light bouncing off the windows.

"yeah," magnus says, and squeezes barry's shoulder tight. "yeah, bud, you are."

barry shakes himself, and wipes quickly at his eyes. "sorry," he mumbles. "i— i hadn't said it out loud yet, i guess. hope i don't do that every time."

"if it helps," magnus says as he picks up his towel again and gets back to drying, "i think almost everyone's figured it out already."

barry sighs. "i only hope we can break it gently to taako," he says. "not because he won't approve, but apparently he had a bet going that kravitz would get there before i did."

and at that exact moment, something fragile shatters out in the den into a hundred thousand pieces. half a second later, taako yells, "barold!"

magnus holds back a laugh — a real one, a full body one, a long, powerful one that would double him over if he let it, and elbows barry again. "i think," he says, "you might be too late."

* * *

carey and killian go back to the inn that night, if only so they can get back in their own clothes and not sleep on the floor. everyone else retreats to their previous sleeping arrangements as well, and magnus finds that for him, this means that once again he can't sleep.

he feels like, with all the alcohol in his system, it really shouldn't be a problem, but his body isn't willing to reason with him on that subject. instead he lies on his side and stares into the fire long enough for his body to beg him to succumb — and yet his mind won't give in.

eventually, he stops fighting for it and gives up. he takes a slow, quiet lap around the house, checking locks and windows and listening outside the doors to the bedrooms until he's certain that the occupants are safe and tucked away inside. but even after he's reassured himself and his restless mind, he still can't fall asleep.

the floor grows more and more uncomfortable the longer he tries to lie down and force himself to sleep, so he finally gives up and moves to the armchair, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a new hunk of wood in one hand. in his other hand he has his grandfather's knife, and all around him his family sleeps, and a fire crackles quietly and steadily drives off the cold slipping in from outside.

he stares down at the wood and the knife and he waits, just for a second, trying to make a decision, trying to pick a subject. he's done fisher and junior, he's done the starblaster. he's done dogs and ducks and cats, he's done a mongoose and an owl and a handful of dragons. he's done steven, he's done great tall trees and an umbrella and any other number of trinkets and toys and knick knacks.

magnus has decades of experience working with wood. he has the knowledge of master carpenters, passed down to him over and over in different words and in different ways. he's learned to slash and to carve, he's learned to work fast and precise, and he's learned to work slow and careful and lovingly. he's learned how to make the wood work with him, and how to work with the wood, and he's taken all those decades of teaching and experience and knowledge and worked it together to make himself into what he now supposes qualifies as a master craftsman.

and yet, he sits here now in his chair, in the middle of the night, in what has become his ideal woodworking hours and position, and he holds a hunk of wood in his left hand and his grandfather's knife in his right, and he has no idea what to do with it.

magnus has worked with wood long enough to know that sometimes you can peel back the first layers, and it's not going to come out exactly how you thought. sometimes the grain is wrong, sometimes there are knots in the wood, sometimes the quality isn't what you thought it was — and sometimes you just fuck up. sometimes you take the knife to the wrong spot, sometimes you push a little too hard or too fast. sometimes you nick yourself instead of the wood. sometimes it just doesn't come out right.

and sometimes, you put the knife to the wood and it comes out— perfect. it comes out exactly like you wanted, exactly like you planned. but you never _know,_ not until you finish. not until you set down the final product on a table and take a long, good look at it do you really know if it's what you wanted it to be. it's not until you're done that you know if that mistake in the middle ruined it or if it didn't matter, or in some rare cases, if it _made_ it.

but you don't get to that point until you put your knife to the wood and _try._ magnus remembers now, sitting in his armchair, surrounded by his family and warmed from inside by hot cider and outside by a warm blanket and a gentle fire — he remembers the first duck he ever carved. he remembers that fear, and that anxiety. he remembers being so certain that he wanted to do this, and also so certain that he was going to be absolutely horrible at it.

but he'd never done anything like that, had he? he'd never tried to be artistic, he'd never tried to be creative. he'd never tried to _make_ something, and he picked up his first hunk of wood and he stared down at it and wondered, in fear and in awe, if this was going to work out.

and still, some sixty years later, he doesn't know. he holds a hunk of wood in his hand right now, and a knife that he's used to carve hundreds of trinkets and knick knacks and gifts over the last decades, and he still doesn't know if it's going to work out. and he— he might not ever. he could have a hundred years, a hundred and fifty years, five hundred years of experience and practice, and he thinks he still wouldn't know.

but at the end— when he finishes. when he sets his hunk of wood down on the table, when it's got all its details, all its lines and curves, when he's figured out how to work around the problem spots of this particular piece— then he'll know. then he'll know how it turned out.

it doesn't mean that it has to stop scaring him, right now this very second. he can still be scared. he can still be uncertain. he can still have a long, sleepless night. he can still toss and turn. he can have nightmares. he can check the locks and the windows and the draft in the guest room. he can call taako out of the blue to make sure he's still doing okay. he can still do all that — what he can't do is continue keeping it to himself.

he won't know how this will turn out until it's over, and it might not be over for a long time. in all reality and actuality, it probably won't be over— well, ever. he's probably going to keep chipping away at this block, sanding away the edges and digging into the details, for a very long time. he’s probably going to deal with this for the rest of his life. he’s probably not going to wake up one day and find that it’s just— fine.

but he might wake up one day and find that he’s smoothed out some of the edges. he might find out that things aren’t quite so bad quite so often.

but he’s got to give it a try first.

he still doesn’t really know what he’s doing with this particular hunk of wood in his hands. he stares at it for another long few moments, and then he takes a deep breath and picks his head up. he looks around the room — he drifts his eyes over merle, sleeping with mookie curled up close next to him, over angus on the couch with a book tucked halfway under his pillow, over mavis curled up facing the back of the couch, over lucretia looking as vulnerable as she’ll ever let herself be, over davenport sleeping rod straight on his back as always.

steven bubbles happily away in his tank, magically silenced but lit bright enough to cast shadows on the ground. and taako and kravitz are in the guest room, and lup and barry are in magnus’s bed. carey and killian are at the inn and are probably safe and sound and happy. magnus could call them right now and make sure, but he— he almost feels, for a second, like he doesn’t need to.

magnus takes a deep breath, and then he picks up his knife and puts it to the wood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just the epilogue left!! see you next week for that one. if you've been celebrating holidays then i hope those have been good for you, and if you've still got holidays coming up then i hope those are good, too!! stay safe everyone, see you next week.
> 
> as always, feel free to talk to me in the comments, on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia), or on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia).


	9. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no new content warnings for this week except running cws.
> 
> well... this is it. i just wanna get the thanks out of the way real quick and then i'll let you get on with it.
> 
> again i have to say thank you to franki like five billion times over for combing through the version of this monster that had approximately three times as many commas as it has now. their reactions and threats of physical harm throughout every chapter were probably the biggest motivator i could think of to keep working on it. i also wanna thank all my friends who have put up with me talking about this fic kind of constantly over the last six months, and especially to eels and cole who were probably at least in part motivated to start listening to taz because i wouldn't shut the hell up. but really, thank you to everyone who ever replied to any of my tweets about my word count with encouragement or pride, you're all the best.
> 
> thank you also to the mcelroys for producing a show that has made me feel more creatively inspired than literally any other media that i've ever consumed. this is the longest thing i have ever written about absolutely anything, and i wouldn't have done it if the balance world was not so rich and amazing and inspiring. also thank you to the boys for helping me not feel like complete shit for the last, oh, ten months or so.
> 
> and lastly thank you to everyone who's read!! especially those of you who have left such kind and heartfelt comments, you all have made it feel so worth it to have spent the last six months putting this monster together, and i'm so glad that you've all responded so well to it. the emotion in some of your comments means so much to me, and i'm so glad people have enjoyed this.
> 
> anyway, i'll let you get into it. thanks for reading!

the house on the hill is nondescript and common. it's short and squat but sturdily built, with one long window across the front and not much to show for itself except a long, tall fence running the edge of the property and the big elm tree growing outside, with its two person bench swing hanging from a sturdy, low hanging branch.

the hill itself doesn't rise very high over the surrounding land, just enough to give a little perspective out towards the horizon. it's set into the middle of a large area of plains and grassland, with very little to set apart the landscape except for the mountain range in the distance and the simple country road dug about a quarter mile away from the edge of the property.

there's a small path, a glorified sidewalk that leads up to the front gates. taako and garyl turn down that path around midmorning, earlier than taako would normally be up and about, and certainly earlier than he would normally be traveling, but he has errands to run and a book signing in neverwinter that evening, so this particular issue needs to be solved fairly early if he's going to make it back to the school in time for krav to whisk him away through the tears in the universe to get to neverwinter before six.

garyl is in a quiet, contemplative mood that day, and taako's feeling fairly similar, so neither of them are particularly interested in much conversation. the weather adds to that — it's sunny and warm, but they're far south enough that there's a good breeze and it doesn't get too hot, even with the sun beating down on them. garyl knows this path fairly well by now, and taako barely even had to direct him — and there’s something strange about that, about the idea of a place becoming so familiar that he and his steed can get there without a map, and even more so that they would _want_ that.

but taako puts that out of his mind and slips off garyl's back to slot his key into the lock and mage hand the gate open so they can head through. there's a distant barking that starts up as the gate shuts again and taako relocks it behind them.

garyl huffs a little as taako hefts himself back up. "tell me there isn't more," he says, low and rumbling underneath him.

"honestly, my man, i have no idea," taako says. "but brace yourself for like, a fucking pack."

"great," garyl grumbles, and they plod on a little slower towards the house.

the property itself is huge, far larger than what's needed, but the land is beautiful and protected this way — and more importantly, it's open and fenced in such a way that it's almost impossible for anyone to sneak up on the house. taako hasn't voiced that particular observation, and he doesn't think anyone else has, either, but they’ve all thought it. the house has become something of a stopover for traveling members of the family. the main road is less frequently used than some of the larger highways, but it's conveniently positioned so that it connects a rather large portion of the family, which means that the house itself is a perfect spot for anyone passing by to stop for a night (or two, or three, or an accidental week or so).

but that's not taako's errand here, today. as he approaches the house, a young dog comes bounding up to them, and although garyl snorts and holds his distance, she just keeps pace and plods along next to them, tongue lolling out of her smile as she follows them down the path up to the house. taako couldn't pretend to remember any of the dogs' names, but this one at least is familiar, which makes him hopeful that he's not about to step into a house that's been swarmed by barking, slobbering furballs.

the swing under the elm tree is swaying gently when taako approaches, and there's angus, cross legged with a book in his lap. it's only been three months since taako last saw him, but he's grown at least another couple inches, which is both disconcerting and frustrating — taako _just_ outfitted him with a new wardrobe last time he was home.

"hello, sir," angus greets him. his hair's gotten longer and his glasses fit his face a little better than they used to, even if the cuffs of his pants don't quite rest where should. his voice is gentler, too, though not quite deeper yet. the changes are subtle, but present enough that taako is undeniably faced, yet again, with the inevitable passage of time.

"hey, ango," he says, slipping down from garyl. he dismisses the spell keeping garyl in existence, mostly because he's going to disappear anyway and taako might as well spare him the experience of dealing with a dozen excitable canines of various sizes yipping at his heels. he tucks his wand away and turns back to angus. "where's the big man?"

angus waves a hand in the general direction of the rest of the property, which illuminates absolutely nothing. "taking the dogs for a walk, i think," he says.

taako glances over at the one who followed them up, now sniffing around the area where garyl was. "how many's he got now that he can lose one and not notice?" he asks warily.

angus laughs and that— that's a little deeper. just enough for taako to feel a tiny bit on edge, just a little disconcerted. "there's only three," angus reassures him. "but junie doesn't like leashes."

taako purses his lips at the name. magnus can do what he wants, he supposes, but the entire purpose of coming out here was to get away from reminders and old memories — and so he gives one of the dogs a name that's not much more than a cross between the little girl he almost killed and the wife he lost?

"are you hungry, sir?" angus asks then, turning on polite little boy mode. he's gotten a little better about slipping into that lately, but he still does it when he hasn't seen someone for a little while. he spent the spring semester studying instead of teaching, which probably only reminded him of how young he is, and he's almost guaranteed to be worse than usual.

"drop the sir, agnes," taako reminds him. "but if you wanna let me in out of the heat, that'd be chill."

angus closes his book and hops up from the swing. junie immediately gets distracted from investigating garyl's disappearance and bounds over to angus, circling tight around his legs. angus gives her a scratch behind the ears as he tucks his book under his arm. "it's actually been a fairly mild summer for this area," he informs taako as he starts off toward the house. "regular rain helps keep the temperature down, and there's always a nice breeze coming north from the coast."

"thanks for the science lesson," taako says, but he follows angus up toward the house. the front door is locked, which is a little— well, they're not gonna break him of every habit instantly, but it feels odd to have the door locked out in the middle of nowhere.

the front facade of the house is ordinary and simple, exactly the kind of thing taako pictured when the idea was first pitched, but the inside changes every time he's here. it was spartan and empty when the house was first built, just the necessary furniture and a few housewarming gifts — and of course, the painting angus had commissioned for candlenights. the last time taako was here, it looked like a furniture store had exploded inside. there had been three couches, two tables stacked on top of each other, twelve or so chairs, an extra bed shoved into a corner of the living room, and two massive dressers on either side of the carefully constructed stand for steven's tank.

this time, though, it's calmed down a little — at least in number of furniture pieces. in their place, a half dozen knick knacks have sprung up on nearly every available surface, leaving little room for taako to set his bag down anywhere that isn't the floor. it reminds him very strongly of their dorms on the moon base, of the way that personality exploded in those spaces, taking over every inch that could be decorated or personalized in any way. there's an entire wall that's been dominated by family pictures and portraits, and another that prominently displays what are quite possibly the world's three most famous magical weapons, hanging above a single fish tank.

the decor makes absolutely no sense. half of it is matching neutral tones, browns and beiges and grays and blacks scattered across the room; and the other half is bright blues and reds and greens, splattered in ways that absolutely boggle every sense of art and color that taako possesses. the coffee table in the middle of the living room is long and massive and sturdily built and intricately carved — and it's sitting on top of a deep red rug and covered every inch from one side to the other in what must be over a hundred small carved wooden trinkets.

it's a fucking disaster. it's a clear sign that the house's owner and occupant hasn't got the first clue how decoration or cleaning works, and it makes taako _itch_ with the need to start moving things around and checking for dust underneath them (and kravitz would call him a hypocrite here, because he's far from the most dedicated cleaner in the world, but screw him, he's not here).

it's also the exact opposite of the house at raven's roost. don't get it twisted — candlenights was great. it was a good excuse to shove good food down everyone's throats and to get presents and hand out copies of his book and okay, there were some warm fuzzy feelings and shit. great. awesome. it was also awkward as all hell — for more than one reason, but not least of all because magnus's house in raven's roost was the most depressing thing taako has ever seen in his life.

the worst part about it, he thinks, is how he didn't even _realize._ what furniture he did have was well worn and lived in, but it was the house of a guy who never gets out anymore. he was three seconds away from building a shrine indoors out of the dozens of stupid wood toys he'd carved through sleepless nights, a shrine to their adventures across the universe and to his dead wife and to the billions of people who died because of them. which is great, remember your roots and all, look how far you've come, but _fuck,_ was it depressing.

and yeah, this house is equally full of little wooden carvings, but at least they're not ferreted away in a chest pushed up against the wall, and at least that chest isn't the _only_ fucking piece of decor. magnus's taste in color and decoration is absolutely abhorrent, but at least he's making purchase choices based on that rather than how many lock and alarm spells he can have taako lay on them, or how secure they'll be against a determined axe.

"you shouldn't worry so much, sir," angus says, and taako shoots him a glare over his shoulder. angus has that look on his face — the bratty little one he wears when he catches someone doing something they think no one has noticed. one day he'll learn to keep those observations to himself, but for now he's a lost fucking cause.

"who's worried?" taako says, and takes his place on the couch. it's the same one from raven's roost, which taako can't blame him for — as beaten up as this thing is, it's comfy and it fits a space and makes it look like a home, even in the middle of a bleak, empty, shitty house in a town full of ghosts.

angus ignores taako's denial and takes a seat in one of the armchairs. another upgrade since raven's roost: significantly more options for seating. "he's doing much better," angus says. "if you had just listened—"

"no one likes an i told you so, agnes," taako informs him, and he pulls his feet up off the floor as junie goes sniffing around underneath him.

"funny coming from you, sir," angus says, grinning. taako frowns, wondering when the hell this kid got to be such a smartass.

"you're spending too much time with merle," taako informs him. "and lup. and probably me, for that matter. just watch it, remember who's housing you for the rest of the summer."

"if taako kicks you out, you're welcome to stay with me, ango," says a voice from behind him.

taako's been here six or seven times since he moved in, including a weeklong stay right at the start, keeping an eye on him under the guise of setting trap and alarm and lock spells all over the place and redoing the spells on steven's tank. every time he's been here since, he's looked different — some days he stands taller, other days he's got bags under his eyes heavier than the ones taako's filled with shit to unload on him. some days he spends all day out in the yard with the dog (dogs _plural,_ now), and other days he heads out to the shed and spends hours chopping wood for a store he may never need to dip into, just based on the general climate of the area.

last time, he didn't look tired, he didn't look worn down, he just looked— he looked empty. he's not _great_ at talking about it, not with any of them, but he's opened up a little. once a week, carey comes by in one of the bureau's transports and takes him back with her to hq, and he sits down and talks through shit with someone who apparently knows how brain stuff works. sometimes, after that, he looks better. he looks happier, or more relaxed, or just kind of pensive and contemplative, which always has been and always will be a weird look on him, but it's better than continuing to bottle it up.

but other times he comes back and whatever shit they talked about has him fucked up. sometimes he comes back and he looks heavy and worn down and _empty._ sometimes he looks like how fisher's static felt. the couple times taako has been around him on days like that are... rough doesn't begin to cover it. the first time, taako ran away. he called krav to come get him and spent all night feeling like a piece of shit for running away because he knew he should have done more and he _didn't,_ and that— that's not right.

there's a lot of shit in all of their heads, taako knows. it's not that magnus's is any worse or better or different than anyone else — they all took that journey, they all lost people, most of them forgot. all of them spent a decade isolated from everyone they had left in the universe. but they all handle that shit differently, and magnus— magnus doesn't accept help well. and sometimes he has to dredge up all that shit with someone he doesn't know very well and he has to try to explain why he feels the shit that he feels and why he can't let go of some random person who died like eighty fucking years ago, and why he blames himself for shit that is arguably taako's fault, or lucretia's fault, or barry's fault, or literally anyone's fault but his own.

and he comes home and he looks like a fucking _shell._ he looks like he did on so many of the nights in his house, when he would zone out of a conversation while the rest of them talked over and around him. he would stare into space or he would work on carving something that none of them could really see around his hunched back and his big hands in the way, and he would be _quiet,_ which is not how magnus burnsides fucking works. magnus burnsides is not _quiet._ taako has hated few interactions with magnus as much as he hated those, not least because taako himself was not feeling like, fucking amazing during candlenights. getting away from raven's roost was supposed to be, like, a saving grace. it was supposed to be a chance for him to build himself into something new and different and bigger and better, and few things unsettle taako as much as seeing magnus in his new house looking the way he did in the house in raven's roost.

but he doesn't look that way today.

he's not glowing. he's not bursting with a smile, he's not exploding with energy, almost manic with excitement like he was when he pulled taako into a hug a week before candlenights. that was almost as disconcerting as the emptiness in him, the way that he would go from silent to explosive in a second or two. taako doesn't miss that.

but there is something about him today. he's standing tall, but his shoulders are relaxed, his arms at his side as one massive dog and one smaller one slip in around him and rush over to the couch to inspect the newcomer. taako shoves them away as politely as he can as he inspects magnus a little closer.

there's bags under his eyes, but they're not as bad as they were at candlenights, or as bad as the last time taako was here. he looks tired in the sense that he was just out running around an open field with two excitable canines, not in the sense that he hasn't had more than three collective hours of sleep a night for several days. he's smiling, and it's huge and exuberant like it always is, but it's not so full it looks like it might burst off his face.

it's been six weeks or so since the last time taako was here, and it was one of those times that taako had to excuse himself earlier than he'd intended to leave because it was just— it was too much. and he thinks magnus was probably grateful for taako's flight, if only because it was also one of those nights where all they did was poke at each other's bruises and wait for the other to snap. he still feels a little guilty about that, but not enough to apologize — just enough that looking at magnus right now and seeing that he hasn't held a grudge makes him feel a little bit better.

the shaggy little terrier looking creature that's trying to climb into taako's lap yaps at him, but magnus swoops in and picks him up, pulling him into his own lap as he seats himself next to taako on the couch. he wraps an arm around taako's shoulder in a quick, easy side hug, and he doesn't let go.

taako is— okay with that, actually, he thinks. he sniffs a little, trying for haughty, but it maybe comes off as emotional instead, judging by angus's stifled little laugh from his spot in the armchair. taako fixes him with a glare that has absolutely zero impact. _teenagers._

"ride in okay?" magnus asks. by some magic that taako will never understand, the little demon creature in magnus's lap has calmed almost instantly and is now curled up peacefully, tail wagging.

"garyl knows where he's going," taako says, eyeing the dog in magnus's lap uncertainly. he doesn't mind the big ones, really. those ones remind him of magnus, mostly in that they are reliably unpredictable, and he can generally tell before one of them decides to jump up and attempt to pull him down to their level. magnus has had a slowly rotating cast of canines on the property for the last few months, but red, the long haired setter who's curled up calmly by the front door, is the only one taako recognizes now. that being said, every tiny dog that magnus has taken in has been an absolute demon. and taako should know, he's dating the king of demons. sort of.

"good," magnus says, and he leans back against the couch, letting his arm fall from around taako's shoulders. he looks down at the terrier in his lap and pets him slowly, then glances up at taako and grins. "so what's for lunch?"

taako should have a witty retort for that, but he's still not quite caught up with the change in the house right now. the main problem is that he can't quite put a finger on what's caused it — whether it's the therapy and the weekly visits with carey or the redecoration or having angus around for the last month or so, or if the change itself led to all those things. or maybe it's everything, or maybe it's nothing, or maybe magnus is just... happier, and taako shouldn't question it so much.

it sits there, then, in the back of his mind, on the edge of his tongue. every visit, every time taako sees that magnus is a little happier, he can't help but wonder if the knowledge that he's keeping from him, the knowledge that they're _all_ keeping from him, him and merle and lucretia and angus and the whole rest of the fucking world — he can't help but wonder if that's not making him a little happier, to have that knowledge taken from him.

it's maybe the weirdest thing about this whole situation, because taako doesn't and never will know whether that knowledge would make magnus better or worse. there's times where taako has seen him struggling just on the edge of that comprehension, just two seconds away from realizing what he's forgotten, but his brain won't let him make the connection. taako's dropped little hints before, just to see if magnus will respond, but his thoughts seem to glide right off of it like oil. he slides from taako's unnecessary hints into the next thought without even pausing, and when he does pause, he usually ends up throwing up or so dizzy he can barely stand, so taako tries not to press it.

so he supposes, in the end, it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter if magnus would feel better or be happier or more whole if he knew about calen. it doesn't matter if taako and merle have gone out and killed him yet or not, because it won't change anything in magnus's mind. he'll never have that closure, but he'll never have that thirst for revenge, either. so it doesn't really matter.

what does matter is that magnus is sitting in front of him right now, waiting for an answer, and taako doesn't have to be afraid that if he takes his eyes off him for a second, he'll go running for a cliff. he doesn't have to worry that he's going to wake up and find magnus just _gone,_ physically missing or mentally just checked out, all personality drained from him by the shit that's in his head. he's not _better,_ he's not _fixed,_ because there was never anything broken or sick in him to begin with, but— but taako doesn't have to worry so much anymore.

"i dunno," he says, because magnus is staring at him with an eyebrow raised because it's taking him just a little too long to respond. "whatcha got in?"

so they move to the kitchen, and taako digs around in magnus's cabinets and fridge until he finds enough to put together a halfway decent pasta dish. it's nothing overly fancy, but angus is excited because it's been months since he's had a taako meal, and magnus just seems content to have them both around.

and sitting down to lunch with them feels _good._ taako might be an extreme individualist, but he's learned recently that he feels better with people around. it's why it feels better to have krav there, or lup, or ren, or angus. just one or two, just enough to remind himself that he is not actually an island and he does not actually exist in a vacuum apart from the rest of society.

and he knows magnus is that same way, and angus is isolated enough from his peers that he probably feels that way, too. so it's a good group, the three of them, gathered around magnus's much more reasonably sized table than the massive fucking slab he had back in raven's roost. he's got a bigger one out in one of the sheds, taako knows, but something small is more reasonable for the space and the number of people he has in here on a regular basis. and also, it's just easier to pass taako's steamed summer veggies across the table when the person asking isn't fifteen feet away.

as has become the custom of anyone stopping by magnus burnsides's countryside home, taako stays well past when he meant to leave. meals were not part of the equation at all, so he steps outside to call krav and rearrange the plans a little.

kravitz, god of a man that he is (except he's not a god or a man, really), picks up almost instantly and practically purrs through the line. "hello, love."

taako hasn't been home in three days, so every moment of conversation he has with his boyfriend is a fucking gift. "hey babe," he says back. "pick me up at mag's?"

"i assumed," krav says, because he's the best person to have ever lived or died or existed in any plane in any universe ever. "do you need time to get ready when we get there?"

"eh," taako says. "i'll refresh the glamour and we'll be good. people are there to shake hands and get shit signed, not to make conversation."

"all right, then," kravitz says. "well, i've got a few more things to finish up and then i'll pop over to get you. is angus packed?"

"i told him to be ready when i got here," taako says. "so if he's not, we're leaving his shit behind."

"mm," kravitz says, in that way that means he doesn't believe a word that's coming out of taako's mouth right now, but isn't going to call him on it. which... whatever. "and how’s magnus?"

taako's sitting on the swing under the elm tree, and he kicks a little to get it moving, one eye on the front door of the house. "better than last time," he says. he unloads enough shit on krav on a regular basis that he knows how to gauge that, but then taako considers it a little more and says, "well, actually. better than most times."

"how's that?" kravitz asks. his mouth has moved away a little bit from the stone, probably focusing a little more on work. with two extra reapers around, he's in the field a little less and on paperwork duty a little more, which is kind of a double edged sword for taako. upside, love of his life isn't doing battle with evil necromancers who might one day figure out a way to banish him from existence; downside, his sister _is._

but pertaining to the matter at hand: "i don't know," he admits. "he's— i dunno. he's _normal._ "

and he is, isn't he? he's not bursting with energy, but he's not about to fall apart into a hundred thousand unmanageable pieces, and he's not a fucking shell of himself, playing at being magnus burnsides and failing miserably, like some of the bad caricatures of them in the media that's being written about their story. he's just— he's a dude. he's magnus, in a perfect world where magnus gets to get away from the fighting and the bloodshed and the death and the revenge and the loss and just live in a quiet little house with a big tree and a swing and some dogs and his whole family stops by regularly to see him and he gets out of the house just often enough while also getting some time to himself. except that perfect world is real, apparently, and they're living in it, and magnus is just— magnus.

"did you expect something different?" kravitz asks, because he's also the smartest person who's ever lived, on top of everything else.

taako leans back in the swing and tips his head up to the sky. the days are so long that even with dinner behind them it's still bright out. "i don't know," he confesses. "i don't know what i expected."

which is true. he partially expected to roll up and see magnus burnsides in the middle of a mission, the guy who runs into every room regardless of context, who always has one hand on a weapon and a grin on his face and only wants to jump up and help people and absolutely nothing else. but they haven't been in the middle of a mission for a long time. magnus has been helping lucretia with some work for the bureau, but mostly he's been working with the dogs, rotating them out as he finds homes for them and sometimes turning them into working dogs or rescue dogs or service dogs or who knows what else. so he has work, but it's certainly not as pressing as the hunger bearing down on them, or a grand relic that's about to kill anywhere between ten and ten million people.

"then try not to worry so much," kravitz says. and he puts that _try_ in there, because he knows taako, and he knows he'll worry anyway, even though taako didn't actually mention being worried anywhere in there. taako huffs and kicks his feet a little at the ground, but krav just says, "just try to focus on being happy for him. he's got something good going for him. don't push him to be more than that right now."

taako sighs and tips his head back against the bench. "yeah," he mumbles. across the lawn, the front door of the house opens and three dogs go rushing out, chasing each other across the grass and barking wildly. taako turns his mouth to the stone and says, "i gotta go. see you later?"

"soon," kravitz agrees. "love you, dear."

"love you, too," taako says, and hangs up just as magnus approaches. he's stripped down to a sleeveless shirt and an old pair of work pants, with some worn but sturdy boots on his feet, and he smiles openly with his hands in his pockets as he nears the swing and seats himself next to taako.

"was that kravitz?" he asks. his voice is so nice to hear, taako thinks, and then is retroactively embarrassed by himself — but it's true. he barely spoke at candlenights, except to argue with someone or get upset or offer some sage advice that he really wasn't qualified to be handing out. it's just good to hear him actually talk about something now.

"yeah," taako says, tucking his stone away inside his robes. "i've got a signing thing in neverwinter tonight, and he was gonna pick me up at the hotel, but it's probably easier to just have him come here with the timing and all."

"you guys doing good?" magnus asks. he pushes at the ground to get them rocking again, and lays an arm along the back of the swing bench, behind taako's shoulders.

"peachy," taako says. "no ring, if that's what you're asking. i think he knows it looks bad if he only does it because barry did it."

magnus laughs and tips his head back, face to the sky. "whenever he does it," he says, "i don't think it'll be for any reason other than because he wants to."

taako makes a gagging noise and elbows magnus in the ribs. "gross," he says, wrinkling his nose at him. "shut up, you big sap. save it for our actual wedding."

"oh, don't worry," magnus says, and he shoots taako a grin. "i'm already writing my speech."

"double gross," taako says. "write one for lup and barry, they'll eat that shit up. barry'll cry."

"he'll already be crying," magnus says. "and i'm the best man, so i've gotta go first anyway."

isn't that just the definition of magnus burnsides, taako thinks. _best man._

but he's got to get the topic of conversation away from marriage, before he bums himself out that he's not marrying kravitz like, literally right now. "and what about you, big man?" he asks. "any pretty ladies at b.o.b hq?"

"plenty," magnus says. "but i only hang out with the lesbians. and i don't think it's in the cards for me."

he says it easily, even if he does get a little quiet at the end. but he doesn't seem ashamed or scared or upset when he says it. he just says it like it's a fact — and it probably is, but taako doesn't think he's talked about that with anyone, except maybe his therapist.

"is that cool?" taako asks. magnus isn't looking at him, but taako's looking at magnus, so he can see the way the lines of his face have smoothed out a little. he doesn't quite have that deep furrow in his brow every time julia gets brought up, even though taako's sure it still hurts.

magnus's left arm is lying on the armrest next to him, and taako would miss the little swipe against his ring finger if he wasn't looking for it. his ring shines in the early evening summer sun, sparkling from regular care and cleaning. "i don't really think about it," magnus says. "but... yeah. i think it is. it's not something i'm looking for."

taako doesn't say that that's usually when it hits you, that it's usually when you're busy handling literally everything else that someone walks up to you and says _hey, i'm gonna be your everything and your forever now_. he shouldn't push, he thinks. if it happens, it happens. he has a feeling it won't, but— taako doesn't need to meddle in that.

"what are you looking for, then?" taako asks, if only to turn the conversation away from this subject.

"a lumber supplier so i can build a third shed," magnus says. "or just expand the first one. you guys keep leaving stuff here and i don't have anywhere to keep it in the house, and unfortunately i can't just keep building more rooms on forever. also someone to take junie in a couple months, when she's ready."

"no thanks," taako says, heading off the question before it can even be asked. "that's it?"

magnus shrugs. "i dunno," he says. "am i supposed to want something more?"

"i don't know, either," taako says. "you tell me."

magnus is quiet for a second, and then he lifts his head again and stares out across the plain, watching the dogs play and wrestle not too far off. "should we just get it out there?" he asks.

taako could play dumb right now, but that wouldn't get them very far. "... how you doing, mags?" he asks, and he trusts, implicitly, that magnus knows exactly what he means.

"i'm doing good, taako," magnus says. "i'm doing better."

"sleep last night?" taako asks.

magnus makes a face. "kind of," he says.

"nightmares?" taako guesses.

"just the one," magnus says.

"talk about it with anyone?" taako asks.

"therapy on thursday," magnus says. "i'll talk about it then."

"we can talk about it now," taako says.

and magnus breaks script then and puts his arm around taako's shoulder and pulls him in close, another side hug that taako's not quite prepared for but that he lets himself lean into a little more this time. magnus is big and warm as always, and he holds onto taako and makes him feel like he matters — not that taako doesn't know that, and not that there's no one else in the world who does that for him, but it doesn't hurt.

"taako," magnus says. "i'm doing good. i'm— it's good out here. i've got a house and the dogs and i've got plenty of work, and even if no one else comes by, i see carey once a week and i usually stop and talk to killian and lucretia while i'm at the bureau, and i'm sleeping more than i was and when i have nightmares i talk about them with my therapist. and my family is safe and they call me regularly and i— i'm happy out here."

"forgive me for not trusting you all the time," taako says. "you said you were happy in raven's roost, too."

"raven's roost wasn't the problem," magnus says. "there was a lot going on there, taako, i— there's still a lot going on. but it's better now. it's better than it was."

taako stares out over magnus's big, open property and watches the dogs wrestle and bark and play. the bigger ones are all over each other, rolling around in the dirt while the little one dances around them with tiny hopping steps and high pitched barks begging for attention. magnus squeezes taako's shoulder and taako keeps his eyes on the dogs.

"i worry about you," taako says. it's easier to say when he's not looking at him, when he doesn't have to see magnus's reaction to him saying that, when he doesn't have to wait for the changes in his face.

magnus is quiet for a second, and then he says, so gentle, "i know, taako."

taako kicks at the ground underneath them as they sway gently forward. "i don't like you being out here all alone," he says.

"i'm not alone," magnus says, and that— well, he's right, isn't he? he isn't alone, and he never has been. even when things were— even when things were wrong, he had julia, or he had lucretia keeping a distant, watchful eye. he's never been alone. even now, he has carey checking in on him once a week, or he has angus staying at the house for a month, or he has merle dropping by for a weekend with the kids. he's supposed to go out on the boat with davenport in a few weeks, taako's pretty sure, and besides that he has his occasional work with the bureau, but still—

"there's no one to hold you accountable," taako says. "i worry about you less when there's someone else who'll also get killed by you running into burning buildings."

"even if that someone is usually you?" magnus points out.

taako leans his head against magnus's shoulder and watches as the dogs flop down in the grass and start sniffing each other and snuggling up under the warm sun. "especially then," he says.

"well then you'll just have to come around more often," magnus says.

taako glances up at him, and magnus is staring down at him. it's easy, in moments like this, to let himself believe that he's fixed, that everything is back to the way it was. except it was never the way it was in the first place, was it? magnus was never a flawless, perfect person. he's always had these insecurities and these fears, it's just... trauma has a way of making those things shine a little more, doesn't it?

he lays his head against magnus's shoulder again. "just—" he starts, and then breaks off.

it's so hard to ask for a promise. it's so hard to ask for _anything._ taako is, first and foremost, a hypocrite. before anything else, taako holds himself and others to wildly different standards. there are things in himself that he would never excuse in another person, and likewise he has traits for which he knows he punishes himself but would probably barely faze him if he saw them in other people. it's a fact of the world, he thinks, that your idea of perfection is never going to align with any living being — not yourself, not your lover, not your best friend.

and taako is horrible at keeping promises. taako lies and deceives, he crosses his fingers behind his back, he goes back on his word, he steals and cheats and— well, he's gotten better, since settling down, since starting a business and a school and a relationship, but he knows that if he was pressed, he would go down that path again in a heartbeat. the only person he can't lie to is lup, and that's not a moral issue, but just the fact that she sees right through him. but if kravitz asked of taako what he's about to ask of magnus, he would lie. he would promise, and then within a week he would go back on that promise.

"just..." taako says again, and then lets out a long, slow breath. "just promise if shit gets bad again like it was, you won't wait till fuckin' therapy to talk to someone about it. i don't care if it's me—" (that's a lie) "— but talk to _someone._ "

magnus leans his cheek against taako's head. "carey made me promise the same thing," he says.

"that's not an answer," taako says, adamant. maybe it makes him a hypocrite, but like hell is he getting off that easy.

"yeah, all right," magnus sighs. "i promise. but it's really not as bad as it was. sun shines more out here, i think that's part of it."

"'course the sun shines more out here, it's summer," taako grumbles, but there is a little pit of relief that spreads through his stomach, even though he knows there is every chance that magnus will go back on that promise in a day or a week or a year or an hour. magnus has lied to him before and there's no reason it won't happen again — but at least he'll stop and think before he does it.

"yeah," magnus says. "but it's hard to be sad in the summertime."

taako could find a hundred ways that's wrong, but he decides to be nice and lets himself relax into magnus's hold. overhead, the sun slowly starts to sink, and eventually the dogs trot back over to them and flop to the ground in front of the swing in a pile. red snaps warningly at the little one as he climbs on top, but then lays his head back down and closes his eyes and lets the sun warm him.

the front door of the house opens, and angus walks out with his bags, dropping them heavily on the porch. he glances in their direction, and then seems to think better of joining them, instead taking a seat on the porch steps and pulling his book back out and returning to his reading.

and taako and magnus swing slowly under the elm tree, magnus's arm around taako's shoulders and the sun coming down on them through the leaves overhead. magnus hums a quiet tune he learned from kravitz, drumming the beat against taako's arm, and that should annoy him, but for some reason, right now, it doesn't.

a hundred yards out, over the grass, a rift cuts through the air, and taako watches kravitz step through. he raises his arm in a wave as he steps down into the grass, and then turns away to close the rift. even from the distance, taako can tell he's speaking into his stone, and he closes his eyes and shifts a little further into magnus's hold instead of waiting for kravitz to approach.

the call takes a while, though, and eventually taako does open his eyes and shift a little, though he doesn’t quite pull away just yet. he glances up at magnus again, who has his head tipped back towards the sky now, kicking the swing in slow motions in the air. he looks— he doesn’t look happy, he doesn’t look peaceful, he just looks… normal.

and maybe normal will just have to be enough. maybe there is no future with a bright, happy, perfect magnus burnsides anymore. maybe there never was a future like that. maybe taako and magnus and everyone else will just have to be happy with a magnus burnsides who is, before anything else, just— magnus. and he doesn’t need to be anything bigger than that.

taako drops his gaze back down again, staring out at kravitz who is walking slow circles in the grass with his stone at his mouth, wind barely stirring his carefully braided hair. “hey,” taako says.

magnus only hums a questioning little note in response.

“are you gonna be okay?” taako asks.

taako isn’t looking, so he can’t see magnus open his eyes, but he can feel the shift in his body that tells him he’s paying attention. “that’s a big question,” magnus says.

“i mean when i take angus home,” taako says.

“yeah,” magnus says. “i know. i’ll do my best.”

well, his best might not be good enough, taako thinks, but he keeps that thought to himself. “all right, i guess,” he says out loud. “just— be okay until next time i get out here, okay?”

out in the field, kravitz finally tucks his stone away into his coat and turns towards them, raising a hand in greeting again and picking his way through the grass. magnus’s chest rises and falls easily and normally and completely averagely.

“yeah,” magnus says. “okay. i think i can do that.”

“okay,” taako says. “i’m holding you to that.”

magnus smiles. “it’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and... that's all folks.
> 
> i am currently working on a kravitz-centric taakitz fic set in the same universe as this one, and i'm _about_ a third of the way through that? so with any luck it won't be too much longer before i'll be posting that, so if you're interested in that all, please subscribe so you don't miss the notifications.
> 
>  ~~i'm also going to try to put together something of a brief essay on my feelings about this particular fic and the topics i wanted to tackle in it and why, and when that's done i'll put a link here.~~ [here you go](https://barryandlup.tumblr.com/post/638784780051283968/this-is-a-love-letter-to-my-own-fic)
> 
> in the meantime, again thank you so much for reading and enjoying. i always love reading y'all's comments, so please drop one of those here or hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/magnusandjulia) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/magnusandjulia). i've also recently gotten back on [tumblr](https://barryandlup.tumblr.com) but i have no idea how often i'll be using that.
> 
> last thing i'll say is that if you enjoyed this fic and you know someone else who might like it, please drop the link for them!! i know it's huge and long and that's a lot for people, but i would love to see other people's reactions to it. thanks again, and happy new year everyone!!! stay safe and healthy and at home, and i'll see you next time i have a monster to share with the world.


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